


All the Mistakes Made

by writingfromdarkplaces



Series: Nothing Left to Break [3]
Category: NCIS
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Case Fic, Episode Related, Episode: s13e06 Viral, Episode: s13e09 Day in Court, Episode: s13e10 Blood Brothers, Episode: s13e11 Spinning Wheel, F/M, Fix-It, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Memory Loss, Other, Team Dynamics, Team as Family, Undercover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-24
Updated: 2016-11-10
Packaged: 2018-08-24 09:35:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 38,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8367322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingfromdarkplaces/pseuds/writingfromdarkplaces
Summary: In over his head when the NSA asks him to go undercover to catch a traitor, Jake finds himself trapped and desperately in need of help from team Gibbs when he's accused of treason himself.Or a different explanation of certain behaviors in season thirteen.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Behind the Scenes in the Basement](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7893484) by [writingfromdarkplaces](https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingfromdarkplaces/pseuds/writingfromdarkplaces). 



> I decided that I wasn't happy with the way I'd been writing The Wrong Way to Do the Right Thing. I was hoping that I could just power through to the finish and fix it, but I realized the problem was what I'd said: I didn't make the one part of things clear where it needed to be. 
> 
> I was avoiding a lot of things... I didn't want to tag this a certain way or add in warnings for it, they make me uncomfortable, which is silly because warnings are supposed to help avoid that, but I have issues. I've brought forward the reveal that makes all of this make sense, the one that allows some minor forgiveness alongside canon, and here it is, a fix-it that actually makes things worse as I tend to do.
> 
> The other version of this may have seemed pro-cheating. I'm not okay with that, and I had to fix that for myself, at least. I apologize for all of that. I hope this new version is better, even if the changes may seem minor, and I thank everyone who read it and gave it a chance.

* * *

“What have we got?” Gibbs asked, coming around the corner to where his team stood. DiNozzo and McGee exchanged looks, and he almost went over to smack them both, but then the look fell on Bishop. She shook her head as she stood, clearing her throat as she picked up the remote.

“Lieutenant Jill Harbor,” Bishop began. “She failed to report to her assignment. She'd been marked as AWOL, but then a few hours later, her body was found along the side of the interstate. No obvious signs of foul play—no wounds on the body, which was fully clothed. Her wallet and ID were missing, but she was identified by her fingerprints and sent up here for autopsy.”

“And?”

“And nothing so far, Boss. The area doesn't have traffic cameras, no one reported seeing her until the state patrol found her, and her cellphone is still at her apartment,” McGee said. “I've pulled her credit cards, but I don't have a location for where she was prior to when she was found by the road.”

Gibbs shook his head. Everything about that was wrong. “What did Harbor do for the navy?”

DiNozzo grimaced. “Haven't been able to access her records so far. They're apparently classified above our level.”

“Get them unclassified,” Gibbs ordered. The request should have been in already. His team knew how this worked. He didn't care what personal upheavals might be happening for some of them. The rest of them still had jobs to do and no excuse for not doing them.

“The request is in,” McGee said. “In the meantime, I've checked her cellphone records to see who she talked to. Her last call was made at one-thirty yesterday afternoon to one Jan—Jake.”

“It was not a Jake. The call was to a woman and—oh,” DiNozzo interrupted himself, rising from his desk. “There is a Jake. I thought we had this discussion before and—”

“And I am not here for any of you,” Malloy said, making the others frown. Gibbs looked him over, taking in the rumpled dress shirt and lack of tie. He frowned, trying to decide if he saw what he thought he did on the other man's wrists. “Well, no, I... Gibbs, I have to... I need your help.”

“Yeah, fat chance of that one, buddy,” DiNozzo said. “You should probably march yourself right back down to the door and—”

“Gibbs, please,” Malloy said, his voice wavering as he spoke. “I don't—I know that I shouldn't be here, and I know no one wants to see me... I just—I don't know where else to turn.”

“Why don't you try your new girlfriend?” DiNozzo asked, arms folded over his chest.

Malloy flinched, but he didn't look away from Gibbs. “I don't know how to—she turned it all around, twisted it. She convinced them that I'm the traitor. I screwed up. I made a lot of mistakes. I know that. I know I can't fix what happened—I don't even remember all of it, but that's half the problem.”

“She used that against you.”

Malloy nodded. “She has it all wrapped in this sick bow that I don't even know how to start unraveling. She says I used her, that I pursued her, that I was the one that led her away from the hotel when it was bombed. She has every time I helped your team as proof—that it was just a short leap from helping you to betraying my country... I didn't do that, Gibbs. I swear I didn't.”

Gibbs grunted. Malloy was an idiot in many respects, but he'd never seen him as a traitor. “She have any other proof?”

Malloy's eyes darted toward Bishop, and he swallowed. “There... there is something... It's not... It shouldn't even be possible, but if it happened like I think it had to... then... she can use the affair to make it seem like I wasn't just unfaithful to one vow... I don't even remember—I know I drank that day. I did. I just... I should never have agreed to help, never have gone to Dubai—but I didn't do this. I'm not a traitor. I didn't leak anything. I did not let those people die in that bombing.”

Gibbs studied him. Damn it, his gut said Malloy was telling the truth. He hadn't betrayed his country, even if he was an idiot for being alone with Matthews—and apparently the perfect patsy. “You still have no memory for that day after the bombing.”

“None,” Malloy answered. “It's a blank after the first bottle from the minibar. That just makes me seem guiltier. No, the second time makes me seem guilty. Sure I drank too much the first time, but the second time, I don't even remember leaving the embassy... I shouldn't even have been there... I had my passport but it was gone... It... This is like a nightmare I can't wake up from...”

“A nightmare you caused yourself.”

Gibbs looked over at his team, glaring them into silence. He turned back to Malloy. “Was it just her or were the others involved?”

“I... I don't know. They could have been, I guess. I'm not sure. I don't know anything anymore. I thought I could trust Howard and Sobek, but I... I can't. The only one I do trust is you.”

Gibbs snorted. “You didn't listen to me.”

“And I've already paid for that. I lost my marriage, my self-respect, and everything that was good in my life,” Malloy said. “I don't... I told you—I screwed up. I can't and don't deny that. I should never have been alone with her, but I was, and I can't undo that. I've accepted the consequences of that stupidity, but this—this is different. I'm not a traitor. I won't let them say I am. If Taylor was using me all along, I played right into her hands, but not because I'm disloyal. I can't believe I was as naïve as I was. I was an idiot.”

“No argument here,” Gibbs said. “Come with me.”

McGee frowned. “Gibbs, you're not actually going to—”

“Damn sure not letting a traitor get away with it,” Gibbs said, pulling Malloy along with him to the elevator.

* * *

“That is not encouraging.”

Abby jerked, missing her shot. She turned around, blocking the screen with her kill Jake game, frowning. What was Jake doing back at NCIS, anyway? Bishop had already started the divorce. They should never have to see this jerk again.

“It's stress relief.”

Jake shook his head at Gibbs' words, turning to leave, but Gibbs caught him and pulled him back to where she was. Abby folded her arms over her chest and waited, not sure why Gibbs was still being friendly with this guy.

“Gibbs, explain. Now.”

“Malloy here needs help with his memory.”

Abby frowned. “Okay, that... intrigues me, rather against my will because I am so mad at you, Jake. What exactly is going on with your memory?”

Jake ran a hand through his hair, and she noticed something on his wrist. She caught his hand and pulled up his shirt, looking at the bruise with a wince. She only knew of a few things that left that kind of mark behind, and she didn't get the feeling that Jake was into them for fun.

“Were you arrested?”

“I haven't been charged,” Malloy said, pushing the sleeve down over the bruise. “It... I didn't do it. I know that with what happened with Ellie, none of you are inclined to believe that, but I didn't betray my country. I am not a traitor.”

“Just a cheater.”

“I don't actually remember doing it,” Jake said, and Abby stared at him. He grimaced. “Okay, that I did not mean to say.”

Abby looked at Gibbs. “You want me to help him remember cheating on Bishop?”

Gibbs turned to Jake. “You said there were two incidents where you didn't remember what happened. That ever happen to you before Dubai?”

Jake rubbed his forehead, starting to pace. “Once. In college. The punch bowl was spiked. I didn't know. That night... has never come back to me. That's the only other time. It was... unsettling enough to where I never really drank that much again. I didn't even think I'd had that much that night.”

“And you didn't think that you'd had very much at that hotel. Or any the second time.”

Jake ran his hands over his arms. “No. I don't remember any alcohol at all at the embassy. I also don't remember leaving the embassy. I... I felt sick. Waking up like that... knowing what I must have done but not wanting to believe it... Taylor... she could have been a part of all those people dying, and she... touched me. I remember thinking I never wanted to be alone with her again, and I insisted on staying at the embassy. She left me a bottle of that pink stuff and a sports drink.”

“You woke up with her again?” Gibbs asked, and Abby almost hit him. She didn't need to hear this, any of this.

“In the hotel. She said I'd come with her when I was still sick, but I don't remember that or leaving the embassy,” Jake said. “I... I did feel like I'd been drinking again, but I didn't... I know I didn't have access to it there, at the embassy. I should remember starting drinking, right?”

Abby bit her lip, twisting it. Was Gibbs thinking what she thought he was? Yeah, she thought he was. Because she was thinking it, too, and it made a horrible sort of sense. “What color was the sports drink?”

Jake frowned. “Why does that even matter?”

“It does, trust me,” Abby said. “Now answer the question.”

“Blue.”

“You're sure?”

Jake nodded. “It was a choice between bright pink or bright blue. I think I went with blue. That's what she said I did. I don't know. I... Why? What is so significant about the color?”

Abby winced, turning to her computer. “Because a certain drug is odorless and tasteless, the manufacturer started making it with a blue core that changes the color of the liquid it's been dissolved into. It turns it blue.”

“Wait. You think I was drugged?” Jake shook his head. “No, Taylor wouldn't have... She didn't need to. I got myself drunk. I know I did.”

“Are you sure about that?” Abby asked, getting another frown from him. “Rohypnol mimics intoxication. If you don't know what that is—”

“No, I do,” Jake said, looking like he might puke. “You think—that's not possible, is it?”

“It may be _very_ possible,” Abby said. “Though... I don't know how we'd prove it now.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jake prepares to leave on his trip with misgivings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm keeping the author's note that was on this chapter. It has an addition, but on the whole, it's the same.
> 
> I thought I'd be fine just diving back into Doesn't Stop the Pain to finish it, but after finishing the new chapter, I found myself needing something else to work on as well. I wanted to pick up something and do a sequel or continue neglected series. And something got in the way. A couple of somethings.
> 
> A while back, I tried to do this in a short one shot, but it wasn't enough. I pulled the one scene from Behind the Scenes in the Basement, switched the point of view and made a few changes, and fleshed some more of it out. There's still more to do, but I apparently couldn't get away with not making a full attempt at the idea of the internal affairs investigation, even after what I did in Finding Futures.

* * *

“So... that was awkward.”

McGee glared at him, and Tony shrugged, not sure what the other man thought would happen after Malloy walked in and dropped that kind of bombshell on them. Bishop had filed for divorce, they all knew that, just like they all knew that Jake's affair was the cause, but him being a traitor... that was news. And not good news. More like the kick you when you're down kind of news.

“Jake wouldn't do it,” Bishop said. “He's not a traitor.”

“Yeah, but I bet you also said that he wasn't a cheater,” Tony reminded her, and she flinched. He didn't say it to be harsh, but it was a little hard to believe a man who could cheat on his wife like that would find it hard to betray his country.

Bishop bit her lip. “There has to be an explanation. I know—he did say he was being investigated before. I thought that was what was happening. That's what I believed it was when I confronted him about being with Taylor. He...”

“He let you think he'd had an affair instead of telling you they suspected he was a traitor?” McGee asked, frowning. “Who does that?”

* * *

_

Earlier

_

“I think I have a problem.”

“You're standing in my basement with one very expensive bottle of booze,” Gibbs said, looking up from his boat and picking up another tool. He set to work again. “I'd say that you've got a problem.”

Jake looked down at the bottle again, grimacing. He carried it over to the workbench and set it down, not even sure why he'd come or how he could do this. Even talking about it was difficult. “Because I'm here or because I brought the bottle?”

Gibbs smiled, which was somewhat unsettling. He took two cups from the shelf and passed one to Jake. “You're here. Let's start with that.”

Jake poured himself a glass and then studied it, trying to decide if it would actually help him say what he'd come to say. He knew he needed help, but he didn't know how to ask for it or what he could do. He was already stuck, he swore he was, and he couldn't see a way out. 

He leaned back against the wall, closing his eyes. “Did you ever have to do something for NCIS that you weren't comfortable with? Or maybe even the marines?”

“The NSA ask you to do something _you're_ not comfortable with?”

Jake drank the whole glass down, barely keeping himself from choking on it. He filled it up again, sipping from it and wishing it _did_ help, but he wasn't sure he could get this out even if he was drunk. “I was approached not long after I gave you that drive. They said that I showed... initiative, and they wanted my help with another matter.”

“One that involved high level clearance and you shouldn't be talking about.”

Jake almost smiled at that, drinking more. At least Gibbs was making part of it easier for him. Not much, but some. “I shouldn't, but we're dealing in hypotheticals—mostly—and I... When this all goes wrong because it _is_ going to go wrong, I... I need some way of minimizing the damage.”

“The hell are you talking about, Malloy?” Gibbs demanded. “And don't go hypothetical. I want the real answer. I don't care what clearance it requires. If you're putting my people in danger, then you damn well better own up to it.”

“No one will get hurt,” Jake said. Then he winced. He couldn't say that, could he? He didn't know that it wouldn't come to that to stop treason. And it wasn't just that. “Not... physically, at least.”

“Explain yourself. Fast.”

Jake finished his glass, thinking he needed another. “There is... a possible leak at the NSA. They... have a suspect, and they want information. Proof. I thought, when they asked me, that I could actually help, to be useful in an active way instead by writing legal documents no one wants to read. Maybe I even thought it would give me something in common with Ellie because we've been drifting apart. I... I don't know.”

Gibbs leaned back in his chair, studying Jake in a way that made him uncomfortable. “What do you know?”

Much more than he wanted to know, at least now. At first, Jake had thought he wanted to be a part of it, that he was proud to be a part of the investigation. He thought it was good. “Their suspect... is a woman.”

Gibbs snorted. “And that bothers you? The chivalrous streak again? You can't believe a woman is responsible.”

“If only,” Jake said. He was aware of Gibbs watching him, and he went for another drink. “That _would_ almost be easier. It's—Damn it. I'm not a chauvinist. I... Gibbs, this woman is... I thought she was a friend. I talked to her. About things I shouldn't have.”

“Your marriage.”

Sometimes Gibbs knew too much. Or he could just guess too well. Jake couldn't deny it, but he wished he could. He had screwed up. He knew that.

“It was—I lost my temper, vented about something Ellie did,” Jake admitted. “This other woman... She offered... perspective. She seemed to be helping me, I didn't think she had an ulterior motive, but then a few weeks later, she was... flirting with me. I think I... I fumbled a bit. She surprised me. I don't think well on my feet.”

“Interesting justification,” Gibbs said, and Jake winced. He supposed it did sound like a poor excuse, and it was but he honestly hadn't meant for things to get like this.

“Whatever I did or said, she took it as encouragement. And the people who suspect her... believe I can use that to get close to her and get them the proof they want.” Jake went for the bottle, trying not to shudder. Taylor wasn't an unattractive woman, but the whole situation was wrong. He knew that. “They told me if I broke it off, if I tried to tell her that it isn't what she thinks, that I will reveal their suspicions. She'll get away with it.”

Gibbs took a drink. “They actually told you to cheat on your wife?”

“Not directly,” Jake said. It was heavily implied, but legally, they couldn't ask him to do it. They couldn't _make_ him do it. “They said play along, gain her trust, get more information. Then they said they were sending me on a clandestine assignment. She's got one, too. I already know it'll be in the same place. They didn't say it. She didn't. I just... _know.”_

Gibbs shrugged. “You're developing instincts. Not a bad habit to get into.”

Jake shook his head. He didn't think it was a good thing, not if he was going to be involved in stuff like this. “I don't want them. I don't want to do this. I don't know of any good way out of it, either. How do I ignore a leak like this? The implications for national security, the idea that someone in her position at the NSA is behind it...”

Gibbs watched him, but Jake couldn't say more. He couldn't admit that she was IA and how bad that would be if she was guilty. “Not saying the job isn't important.”

“But I'd have to convincingly flirt with this woman if not... kiss her or...” Jake covered his mouth, trying to stop himself, but he must have had too much to drink already. That or he was just weak. He couldn't stop it, so he ran to the trashcan and puked. Sitting back, he shook his head in disgust. “Normally, I can hold my liquor.”

Gibbs snorted. “That's a little hard to believe at the moment.”

He might be right about that. Maybe Jake couldn't drink as much as he thought he could. It had been years since college, after all. “Gibbs, I don't know what to do. If I go through with this, no matter what I do, I'll hurt Ellie. And I can't tell her about it. Not any of it. Not about the truth behind this assignment, not where I'm going. Not about the leak. Oh, god. I told you. I—I just meant to...”

“To get someone on your side for when the fallout happens.”

Jake stared at him. Was that actually what Gibbs thought he was doing? He'd wanted help. Maybe a way out. Something. Anything. He just had to settle for hoping he wasn't wrong about what Gibbs felt for his team—that they were family. “To make sure someone is there for Ellie when this goes wrong. Because it _will_ go wrong. Either I am going to get myself killed trying to get information, or I will get it and lose everything in the process.”

Gibbs shook his head. “You don't have to sleep with this woman to get information from her.”

“No, I don't, and I don't plan on it going that far, but that's what I mean, Gibbs,” Jake said, swallowing down the bile in his throat. “She'll know when I try and stop it, and it will be all over. They'll get their proof. Just... not in any way that's good for me.”

“You don't have to do this,” Gibbs reminded him, and Jake wished that were true.

“They made it sound like there wasn't any other way they'd get proof,” Jake said, waiting for Gibbs to tell him there was. “I think I do. Maybe... maybe I'm overreacting. Maybe it won't be as bad as I think it will.”

“You should listen to your gut.”

“I already did,” Jake whispered, lowering his head. “That's why I came here.”

* * *

Ellie watched Jake pack, biting her lip. He was acting very strangely, had been for weeks now. She knew he was tense, that he couldn't relax, and she'd tried to get him to talk about it only to get a pained look from him. They both knew if it was above her clearance level, he couldn't, but whatever it was, it was eating him up inside.

He was worried, and every bit of his worry was starting to rub off on her. She didn't like the idea of this trip at all, even more so when he couldn't tell her where he was going.

She went over to the bed, stopping him before he picked up another shirt. “I don't think you should go on this trip.”

He sighed. “Ellie...”

“You weren't even this bad when we were hunting Parsa,” she said, frowning. “This isn't like the chatter you buried before we went to Turks.”

He nodded, reaching over to touch her face. She covered his hand with hers, keeping it there. “I don't like it any more than you do. They haven't really sent me on any kinds of trips before—they sent you overseas, not me. I don't think they ever saw the need to have legal briefs prepared over there before, and it still doesn't seem necessary.”

“Is it?” Ellie asked, worried. She didn't know why they were sending him over there, and she didn't think it could possibly be good.

“They think it is,” Jake told her. He took a breath and let it out. “Ellie, I wish I could tell you. I want to, but I can't.”

She nodded. She knew it was supposedly a matter of national security, and Jake did take that seriously. He believed in his job and what he was doing. He always had. It was part of what had drawn them together in the first place. Now, though, it was trying to tear them apart.

“When is your flight?”

“Six.”

“Not for a few hours, then,” she said, and he frowned again. “I don't want you to go. Listen to me. I sound... like a little girl.”

“That look you're giving me belongs to a big girl,” he said, and she smiled back at him, even if she still felt foolish. She didn't know what she'd do if anything happened to him. “We haven't actually done that in a while. I mean, we haven't said goodbye with—never mind.”

She laughed, trying to cover over how awkward that really was. She knew it had been a while in both senses of the word—they hadn't really been intimate in a while, and it had been years since they'd had “one for the road” sex before either of them left on a trip of any kind. “I'm just... really going to miss you.”

Jake wrapped his arms around her. “Same here. I actually felt like... we were starting to get back to where we were before, and now this trip is... probably going to change all that.”

She swallowed. The way he was talking had her worried all over again. What if he didn't come back? What if something happened? “Can you take a later flight? Or is it too late for that?”

“Don't you have to get back to work?”

Ellie nodded. She should go, but she didn't want to, not when she was having such misgivings about letting Jake go. Her mind was on statistics about plane crashes and the dangers of his possible destinations—she already had two pretty good theories about where they were sending him, and she didn't like either of them.

“It'll be fine,” Jake said, though he sounded far less than convinced of that himself. “I should finish packing.”

“You have hours yet,” she said. “Just... stay. I know you have to go on that flight, but for now, stay. Here. With me.”

Jake tightened his hold. “You know there is nowhere I would rather be.”

“I doubt that. I think we could figure out dozens of places that would have more appeal. What about... Paris?”

“Hmm. Overcrowded, full of rude people yelling at me in a language I don't understand—”

“Liar. Your mother made sure you were fluent in French,” she said, and he smiled at her. She liked this game of theirs. They hadn't played it in a while, either. “New York City.”

“Again with the crowds and the languages I don't understand. Quit making it easy,” he said, rocking her in his arms. She laughed, just enjoying every second of this, wanting to make sure she could hold onto it while he was gone.

“I love you.”

He kissed her forehead. “And I love you.”

* * *

“And here I thought this would be a boring flight.”

Jake tensed, staring at Taylor in what he figured had to seem like horror. He should have known, but he hadn't actually wanted to think that the NSA would arrange their seats like this. He knew she would be at the same conference, that she'd be at the same hotel—they wanted to see how she acted out of Washington, wanted to give her some freedom to move around, so that she would make some kind of move that they could use against her. Still, he'd hoped to have the flight to prepare himself, and he'd also wanted to hold onto that last memory he'd made with Ellie. 

He'd actually felt good when he left.

Now he felt sick.

“Hi, Taylor,” Jake said, hoping that he could keep himself from revealing too much.

She sat down next to him with a smile. “Jake. It's so nice to have someone to talk to. I'm glad we'll be sharing this trip.”

Jake forced a smile. “I don't know. I think I would have preferred to stay home. I'm not a big traveler. Never have been. My mother liked the idea of summering in France, but I always got homesick. I wasn't very good at the language, and all my friends were back home.”

“What about your brother? Wasn't he there?”

Jake shook his head. “It isn't as noticeable now, but there's six years difference between me and him. He was a baby when we first started going, and even when he was older, it wasn't that fun to play with him, not for years.”

Taylor shrugged. “Still, it was France. You probably got an experience few people had. And you're fluent in the language, right?”

Jake nodded. He'd picked up a few over the years, which had been an asset when he applied for a job dealing with international law. “I... Kind of. I'm not good when I'm put on the spot, but reading it and writing is... okay.”

She smiled. “I love how humble you are. So modest. I know you speak more than just French and English.”

“Yes, but I never picked up Arabic, which would have been more useful in this climate,” Jake said, shaking his head. He looked over at the window, wishing that the stewardess would come by and offer them drinks. He wasn't sure how the NSA had justified it to Taylor, bumping her up to first class. He'd been bothered enough by the idea of this trip that he'd given in and used his family's travel account.

This felt so wrong. He didn't want to do this, but the flight was taking off, and while he supposed he could try and get off, that would definitely alert Taylor to the investigation the others were doing. He just had to stay calm, and they would catch her.

Just because he knew they were investigating her didn't mean that he'd be the one to get anything from her. He could just be himself and wait it out. That was what he'd do. He didn't have to put himself at risk or destroy his marriage. It would be fine.

He just wished he believed that.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The events of the morning the bombing happens in Dubai.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This should be somewhat clearer now, if that much more unpleasant.
> 
> So this is in part what was seen in Viral, with a few additions and Jake's side of things, which were awkward and hard to write, but I tried. I need this story out of my head, too.
> 
> I thought I was going to add new sections to each chapter, but I don't actually like that, at least not here, so I didn't do it.

* * *

“Hmm,” Ellie said, stepping inside the elevator and taking a bite of her burrito.

Tony reached across her to push the floor button. “You know, I've been trying to get Christoph to name a burrito after me for years. You're here a hot minute and you already got one?” 

“I have a way with people,” Ellie said with a shrug, trying to focus on the food in front of her. This was going to be good, and she needed it. Almost desperately. 

“I have noticed that,” Tony agreed, still watching her eat. “So, tell me—what's in the 'Bishop?'”

She continued to chew as she explained the burrito's contents. “It's two tortillas with eggs, steak, hash browns, sweet potatoes, bacon, and four different cheeses.” 

Tony shook his head at her as she took another bite. “This is stress eating of a new kind. You should be studied.” 

She shook her head, talking with her mouth full. “What makes you think I'm stressed?” 

“Oh, come on. Bishop, you can't fool me. Jake's been away on another one of these top-secret NSA assignments and you are a type-A control freak. And not knowing is killing you,” Tony told her as the elevator stopped. He started out of the doors. “Not as much as that burrito.” 

Ellie frowned, looking down at her burrito. She didn't care. She needed food, Jake was gone, and she was going to eat it. Besides, it looked like something else was about to distract Tony. Delilah was here, and she did not sound happy.

“I don't think I'm being unreasonable.”

“That is not what I said,” McGee protested, and Ellie almost winced. She would actually rather be fighting right now—she knew that sounded crazy, but she wanted Jake back. She'd accept fighting with him, too, just to have him safe and sound and alive.

“Oh, if it isn't the nesting lovebirds,” Tony said as he set his bag down by his desk. “How goes the move-in at Casa de McGee?” 

Delilah snorted. “Well, it would be better if someone knew how to compromise. I got rid of some of my things, like a grown-up.” 

Ellie set her bag next to her desk and the burrito on top of it before going over to Tony. “Guess that answers your question. Jake and I went through the same thing when we moved in together. Consolidating two people's lives into one space—it's, yeah, it's tricky.” 

“And just so you know, I donated a bunch of my stuff last week,” McGee told Delilah. “Stuff that was important to me.” 

“More important than my stuff?” Delilah asked. “Or more important than us?” 

“That's a trap,” Tony said helpfully, getting looks from everyone. “Sorry. It's just a set up...”

“Honey,” Delilah said, still annoyed as she leaned forward. “0-0-1-0-0.” 

McGee met her at her level. “1-1-0-1-0-1.”

“0-1-0-1-1-1.”

“0-0-1,” McGee said, going around his desk in anger.

“Are they arguing in binary?” Tony asked, trying to follow the conversation. Ellie had, too, but she hadn't gotten all of it.

“Binary averages twelve digits per word,” Ellie answered. “It's some sort of modified shorthand.” 

“He can't even argue like a cool cyborg.”

“Grab your gear. We have a dead petty officer in Fort Scott Park,” Gibbs ordered as he came up to his desk. “Hey, Delilah. How's the move?” 

“Still in progress, Agent Gibbs.”

Gibbs started for the elevator. “Gotta compromise, McGee.” 

“Working on it, Boss.”

* * *

“It's early yet,” Taylor said, stopping next to Jake's door. Her smile was more than a little suggestive, and he swore she must have undone some of her buttons in between this moment and the last time he'd looked at her. Could she actually have done that in the elevator?

“I haven't adjusted to the time over here,” Jake said, grimacing. “I still feel... off.”

She shrugged. “You know, I think there's something in the minibar that might help with that. And... I could help.”

Jake swallowed, trying to find some balance between what the NSA wanted him to do and what he knew he had to do. He couldn't do this. He wasn't that great a liar. He couldn't fake interest in her, and if she believed he was—then he must be giving her the wrong kind of signals. The NSA would say that they were the right kind.

He knew they weren't.

“I think I'd be better just sleeping it off,” Jake told her. “I should be fine in the morning.”

“Jake,” she said, and he dropped his room key, almost cursing as he did. She laughed. “Would you like some help with that?”

“Um...” Jake said, getting the key and standing back up. “I've got it, Taylor. Thank you, though. Don't let me spoil your evening. You... You're a pretty, unattached woman. You go out and have fun.”

“Are you sure you don't want me to come in? You're starting to worry me a little.”

Jake winced. “I... I should be fine. Really. I just need some sleep. I'll see you in the morning.”

“It's a date,” she said, and Jake had to force himself not to react to that. He opened the door, stepping inside his room. He closed the door behind it, resting against it and shuddering. 

He knew she would have come in. They could have—he closed his eyes, trying not to think about it. He was doing this because the NSA suspected Taylor was guilty of treason. He was not having an affair.

He went to his bed and took out his phone. He turned it on, knowing he wasn't supposed to—he was under a communications blackout and wasn't supposed to have anything on him that could track back to his location—but he needed to do something. He looked at the picture of him and Ellie and smiled, touching her face before unlocking the phone and bringing up his email.

 _Miss you,_ he typed, knowing he wouldn't send it. He added a few more words before saving the draft. He could always do it on his way back to her—with a few modifications. _Wish I was anywhere but here. Love you._

* * *

Ellie had always known that being friends with Martinez would pay off. She hadn't known _how_ it would pay off, but she'd always known that it would, even when Martinez was at her worst. She could be harder to take than Tony sometimes.

Now, though, she'd given Ellie intel about where Jake was, and Ellie owed her more than she could say. She hated not knowing what was going on with Jake. Because the assignment was classified, he couldn't use his phone or anything else that could track back to him, so she didn't know what was going on with him. No calls, no texts, no emails. Nothing since he'd left.

“What's up with you?” Tony asked, leaning against the desk and trying to look over her shoulder. Ellie knew she had him blocked, so she didn't move. “You've been checking your phone the entire time, like a teenage girl.” 

“Yeah, I'm texting with Martinez at the NSA,” Ellie answered, still moving her fingers over the screen. “There's been chatter about an impending terror attack near where Jake is.” 

Tony eyed her suspiciously. “I thought Jake couldn't tell you where they were sending him.”

“Well, he didn't,” Ellie said, tempted to roll her eyes. “I spent years at the NSA, Tony. I figured it out on my own.” 

“So where is he?” 

“Can't tell you—'need to know.'” 

“Seriously?” Tony asked, but then the metro detective came down the stairs, and they both had to focus on the case.

* * *

“Morning.”

Jake tried to find words, not sure he could when Taylor was standing in front of his door, her outfit somehow more revealing than yesterday's had been while managing to pass itself off as professional. The suit jacket did it, since the blouse she wore was so sheer he could see right through it to the dark bra she had on underneath.

She caught him looking and smiled, her lips covered in a shade that was hard to ignore.

“Taylor.”

“I hope you're feeling better this morning,” she told him. “There is something I want to show you before the conference starts today.”

“I was going to get something to eat—”

“I promise to get you food,” Taylor said, smiling at him. The line about spiders and flies came to him, and Jake felt sick all over again. “I'll make it worth your while.”

Jake knew that without a good reason to refuse, he'd tip his hand with her, but this was such a bad idea and he knew it. “Taylor—”

“I know a great local restaurant,” she said. “Trust me. This is where you want to go. You haven't lived until you've tried their food. I won't take no for an answer. I've got a cab waiting for us downstairs. Let's go.”

Jake forced himself to nod. “Um... sure. Fine. Let me just grab my briefcase in case we're late coming back. Then I won't have to come up to the room again.”

He went back to grab his bag, wishing he had something better or some kind of excuse to give her to put her off. Maybe if he suddenly got sick, he wouldn't have to go. Or maybe this was what the NSA was hoping for—that she'd confess her involvement to him.

He made sure he had his phone, knowing he could always use it to record the conversation if he needed to. He walked back, bag in hand, and she smiled at him, taking his arm after he shut the door.

“I'm glad you agreed to come with me,” she said. “I think you were right about what you said on the plane.”

Jake frowned. “I'm not sure what you mean.”

“Of course you do,” Taylor said as she reached the elevator doors. She pushed the button, waiting for one to come to them. “Traveling isn't any fun alone.”

“I don't remember saying that.”

“Sure you did,” she said, tugging him into the elevator as the doors opened. “You said you were lonely when you traveled. You missed home.”

“Oh. That. Yes. I did. I do. I...”

“You are so adorable when you're flustered,” Taylor told him, reaching over to push the button for the ground floor. “I love it.”

Jake forced a smile, not sure what else he could do under the circumstances.

* * *

“If you're just joining us, we have breaking news out of Dubai,” the reporter on the screen said as Gibbs entered MTAC. Abby said it was bad, and though she of any of his people might exaggerate things some, Gibbs' gut agreed with her even without knowing what Bishop knew. “Early this morning in the downtown business district, two explosive devices...” 

“Give me a sitrep,” Gibbs said, coming down the ramp.

“Terror attack in Dubai,” Bishop reported, her voice calm and yet not calm enough. “Two bombs detonated inside the Monroe Hotel. Al Shabaab claimed responsibility.” 

“How many people inside?” Gibbs asked, looking at the screen to assess what he could of the damage for himself.

“Over five hundred,” Bishop answered. “There was chatter. Why didn't they change the venue?” 

“'They?'” Gibbs asked, turning to face her but already having a good idea who she meant and why she was still standing here. Damn it, Malloy.

“NSA. Jake was inside that hotel,” Bishop said, confirming what Gibbs had thought a moment before. He'd known the man was going, but he hadn't heard anything about a terror attack. “I haven't been able to make contact with him. Over twenty employees were sent there for a conference. NSA's scrambling—” 

“Bishop, go home,” Gibbs told her, knowing that she wouldn't be able to focus on their case. Not with Malloy's fate unknown. “Wait for word.” 

“No,” she said immediately. “I can do more from MTAC.” 

“Bishop—”

“Gibbs, I'm not gonna wait around for a 'we regret to inform you' call,” she insisted, almost getting angry. “I'm not leaving here until I find Jake.”

Gibbs nodded. He wouldn't make her go. He should have kept Malloy from going, but that was another matter altogether. If this had anything to do with the NSA's suspected traitor, Gibbs would find her and make her pay herself.

Unless she was already dead.

Damn it. The NSA had better not have let this attack happen to get rid of her quietly. He wanted answers, and he'd better get them.

“Keep me informed,” Gibbs told Bishop before leaving the room. He needed to talk to some contacts of his own.

* * *

“That doesn't look right,” Jake said, turning in his seat to look behind him. He'd only caught a glimpse of it before, but now he could see it better—a bunch of smoke coming from where they'd been. The other side of the city seemed to be clouding over, and he didn't like what he was thinking.

“I'm sure it's nothing,” Taylor told him, leaning over to put her hand on his knee. “We would know, wouldn't we? Considering where we work?”

Jake frowned. “I don't see how we could when we're not supposed to be—”

Taylor put a finger to his lips. “The driver does speak English. Don't say too much.”

Jake pulled away, still uncomfortable. He didn't like the smoke he knew he was seeing, and he didn't like her behavior, either. She only seemed to be thinking about one thing, and while some men would find that flattering, Jake couldn't. He was married. And Taylor could be a traitor.

He wanted out of this cab. The ride seemed endless, though he supposed that had more to do with his companion than it did with actual time passing. He kept thinking he was going to make a mistake and Taylor would know—he'd ruin the investigation and probably die in the process.

“I think you'll like this place,” Taylor said, giving him another smile. “I found it last year when I was here. It was amazing.”

“I didn't know you were in Dubai last year,” Jake said. He wasn't sure he would have known, but no—if she'd gone because she was IA, then he would have, because he'd have seen the case. If there was one. Maybe there wasn't. Maybe he was overreacting to all of this.

She shrugged, like it was nothing, and he got a bad feeling about it all over again.

“Here we are,” she said, and the cab stopped in front of another hotel. Jake looked at her, only to have her smile all over again. “Hotel cuisine is a lot better than you think sometimes. Come on. Let's go give it a try.”

* * *

“Our hotel is a pile of rubble,” Taylor said, looking up at the television screen above the bar and shaking her head. She seemed unable to take it in, but Jake didn't think it was real. He had the terrible feeling she'd known that was happening, that she'd left the other hotel on purpose.

“We should probably check in,” Jake said, and she took out her phone, shaking her head and showing him the screen.

“No service.”

Jake tried not to react to that. She'd had it on all along. This couldn't be right. “Taylor—”

“Stay here,” she told him, and he frowned as she walked away. He turned back to the television, watching the footage from the news. That was where they'd been not ten minutes ago. They could have died. Jake knew he should be glad he wasn't, but if he was—did that mean that Taylor had known in advance?

He looked over at the bartender. The other man didn't say anything, just poured him a drink and passed it over. He did the same for himself, drinking it as he watched the screen. Jake drank it down, trying to figure out what the hell he was going to do.

He was in a foreign country with a traitor who'd left hundreds of people to die, and he didn't know how to contact anyone and tell them what he knew.

“I got us a room here,” Taylor said, and he turned, almost spitting out the drink. She took it from him. “Good idea.”

“I—Taylor, we can't stay here. There have to be protocols to follow, and we need to let people know that we're alive—”

“Relax, Jake. We'll contact them from the room,” she said. He frowned at her. “Cells don't have service, but we should be able to use the landline to make contact. And we should do that in private.”

All of that sounded reasonable, which gave Jake nothing to object to, so he let her pull him along with her to the elevator. She pushed the button and waited.

“I'm sorry this didn't go as planned,” she told him, sounding almost genuine about that. He could only frown, not sure what else to do. “At least we're both alive, right?”

Jake forced himself to nod. They were alive, though in his case, he wasn't all that sure it was going to last for very long.

* * *

“I think you've just about cleaned out the minibar,” Taylor teased, and Jake looked down at the little bottle in his hand, feeling guilty, but not sure what to do about it. He was alone with a woman he knew had betrayed her government and probably killed hundreds of people in the process, and he had to keep himself quiet and calm and pretend he didn't know what she'd done or she'd kill him, too.

Then she'd probably vanish and get away with all of this.

He held the bottle out to her. “Sorry. Never... never really been in a situation like this before.”

“It's okay,” she said, touching his cheek. “Let me take care of you.”

Jake shuddered, and she looked at him. He lowered his head, not sure how to fix this. She'd know. She'd kill him. She had to have a gun somewhere, didn't she? He didn't have one, but she was an agent and he wasn't.

“Jake, what is it?”

“All those people...”

“I know,” she said, lifting his chin so that he'd look at her. “It's terrible. All those lives lost. People we know. We worked with them. They might not have liked me much, but I didn't want anything to happen to them.”

She was an incredible liar. Jake almost believed her.

“I'll see if there are any of these left,” Taylor told him, and he winced, but he didn't fight her on it. He didn't think she had any intention of making contact with anyone, and he had to figure he was probably going to die in this room.

Unless maybe he got drunk enough to pass out and maybe buy himself some time.

That or just make his death a lot less painful.

“Here,” she said, holding out the small bottle of vodka to him. He'd avoided that one, not a fan of the way it burned, but he'd take anything at this point. He gave her a slight smile before tipping it back and emptying it in one go. “So much for sharing.”

“Sorry.”

She shook her head. “It's fine. One of us needs a clear head to keep trying to make contact.”

He nodded, forcing himself up from the bed. “Think I need to...”

She laughed, amused by him, and he tried to ignore it as he went into the other room. He didn't know how he'd managed to get himself into this mess. He leaned over the sink, letting the water run. He took out his phone, turning it on. He didn't have service, either, which kind of surprised him, since he figured she was lying about that.

He sighed, putting the phone away again. He didn't feel right, but then he had emptied most of the minibar, as she said.

“Jake?” Taylor asked, coming into the room. “I think you should lie down now.”

Jake nodded, not feeling very steady on his feet. She helped him over to the bed, getting him to sit up by the headboard. She took off his shoes, and he gave her a look, but she just laughed before climbing up beside him.

“I can't tell you how long I've thought about being alone with you,” Taylor said, and he looked over at her.

“We're not alone.”

“And you are not drunk,” she said, laughing before she leaned down to kiss him.

He put his hand up to stop her. “Taylor, don't—”

“We could have died,” she reminded him, and he tried not to gag. She touched his cheek before reaching up for his glasses. “Don't you want to feel alive?”

“Did you know?” Jake whispered, knowing he shouldn't ask, not if he wanted to live. 

He thought he heard her laugh right before she kissed him again.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ellie continues to worry about Jake, while he tries to cope with the aftermath of the bombing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was another surprisingly difficult part to do. I had parts of it done, and it seemed like I was missing one scene plus some expansion on dialogue from the episode. Turns out that one scene was two and they were like pulling teeth, and the expansion lead to two scenes, both of which were cut from this chapter after I decided I didn't like where it was going to end.
> 
> So there's this instead, and it doesn't quite wrap up all of Viral, but it fills in more pieces.
> 
> Again, not new, but the addition didn't feel right.

* * *

“Hey,” McGee said, coming over to where Ellie was sitting in MTAC. She'd lost track of how long she'd been sitting here now, even if the feed had been constant. She had lost hours waiting for any kind of answer, regardless of the source. “What's the latest?” 

She looked at the screen and the ZNN feed. “News outlets are reporting thirty casualties, but my intel puts the number at forty-three. And hundreds more injured.” 

McGee nodded. “Anything from the NSA?” 

“Two analysts are confirmed dead,” Ellie answered. That answer was not the one that she wanted. She needed to know what had happened to her husband, where he was and if he was alive. “Jake and five others are still unaccounted for.” 

“You know, the comms are probably down,” McGee began, trying to make her feel better. “I'm sure Jake's fine, he's probably—” 

“If you want to help me, McGee, spare me the false hope,” Ellie interrupted angrily. She did not want platitudes. She wanted answers. “What I need are the facts, and that's it.” 

“Okay.” McGee took a breath and then sat down beside her. “You know, when people say that they know what you're going through, they usually don't. They just say it to comfort you. But in this case, I actually know exactly what you're going through. I was there. Two years ago. Benham Parsa.” 

Ellie couldn't look at him. That still felt, in part, like her fault, since she hadn't been able to stop him before then. She hadn't even stopped him afterward. “His drone attack on the gala.” 

“After that explosion, I couldn't find Delilah. I didn't know... if she was hurt. I didn't even know if she was alive. And each second feels like an hour. And the worry turns to anger. Mostly at yourself, because you know there was nothing you could do,” McGee said, and Ellie knew that he was right, that he was speaking of his own pain and it was real. It was everything she felt now, but she couldn't acknowledge it. “But I remember—no matter how much I pushed everyone away, you were all there. And that's what family does, Bishop. So... whether you think you need us or not... we're not going anywhere.”

She knew she had to say something to that, but she couldn't manage normal words. She wasn't sure she was right about the shorthand, but she tried anyway. “Zero, zero, one, one, zero.” 

“You're welcome.”

* * *

Jake opened his eyes and then shut them, wincing in pain. He hadn't been this hungover since college, and he knew he'd sworn never to get that drunk again. He had given up on that a couple weeks into his first semester of freshman year. He knew that he'd broken that rule a few times since then—one of them being Ellie's family's New Year's party which was rather infamous—but he hadn't felt quite like this after a night of drinking, not since that one party he still couldn't remember from college.

He started to sit up and stopped, staring at his arm. He didn't have a shirt. Why didn't he have a shirt? He always slept in a t-shirt, and he knew he'd put one on under his dress shirt even with the heat. He didn't have a shirt at all.

He tried to remember what he'd done with his shirts, but nothing came to him. He had nothing—no taking them off, no spilling anything on them, just... nothing.

Swallowing, he looked around the room. The other half of the bed was empty, but the sheets were rumpled like someone had been there. He knew that from his own bedroom, the one he shared with Ellie.

“Taylor?”

She didn't answer, and he pushed the sheets off his legs, about to get up when he had to stop. He didn't have any pants, either.

Maybe he'd just thrown up on them. He had puked the other night at Gibbs' house, and so maybe that was it. He'd just gotten everything dirty.

Taylor came into the room wearing nothing but her sheer blouse. “I see you're finally awake.”

Jake nodded, looking down at the bedspread. He couldn't face her. Couldn't see her like that. If he let himself think about it, he knew what it meant, and that—no. He hadn't. He'd gotten drunk, but not _that_ drunk.

Only... he couldn't say that, could he? He couldn't say what he'd done. He didn't know. He couldn't remember anything from after he'd started on the minibar.

“Taylor, what happened?”

“The hotel was bombed.”

“I know that. What happened... after that?”

She came over, touching his cheek, and he jerked away from her, accidentally opening his eyes and seeing way too much. He gagged, the nausea threatening to overwhelm him. He leaned back, closing his eyes again and trying to calm himself.

“As soon as your suit is clean, we can go to the embassy.”

Jake put a hand to his head. “Then... I just... I puked on my suit, right?”

She laughed, and Jake didn't think that was a yes.

* * *

“I had my contacts in Dubai send me everything they could get their hands on,” Delilah said, looking over from the computer station. “From inside the hotel to a five-block radius. Didn't want to limit our options. It's a lot more ground to cover, but we'll find something.” 

“Macaroon,” Ellie whispered, wincing. He almost hadn't done it that time, since she'd gotten him to stay later and he'd put off packing to the last minute.

“Is that code for something?” 

“Oh, uh...” Ellie hadn't realized anyone had heard her. “It's this... silly tradition Jake and I have whenever one of us goes out of town. It's sort of our own good-bye. We walk to the front door, and we kiss, and he says, 'Bye-bye, Pumpkin Pie,' and I say, 'See you soon, Macaroon.'” 

“Two food references,” Delilah said with a smile. “Sounds about right.” 

Delilah wheeled over to her side, and Ellie kept her eyes on the screen as she said, “I'm the one who's supposed to be in that position, not Jake.” 

“What position?” 

“The one in harm's way,” Ellie answered. “I finally understand what Jake's been talking about all this time. My NSA deployments in the Middle East, these past few years at NCIS. This is what he's been going through.” 

“It has nothing to do with your job, Bishop,” Delilah disagreed. “Even if you were a librarian, the worry wouldn't go away. Everyone's greatest fear is losing the one they love the most. That's why we fight like hell for every minute.”

Ellie figured the other woman probably knew that better than anyone. Then a picture came across the screen, and she almost missed it. “Wait. Go back one.”

“Yes, ma'am.” 

“That's the hotel in the background,” Delilah said, seeing the same thing that Ellie had. 

“The taxi stand. Zoom in,” Ellie said, hoping she saw what she thought she saw as that part of the image was enlarged. “I think that's Jake.”

“Taxi's registration—XZ017,” Delilah said, reading off the side of the car before turning and wheeling over to the desk again. “Okay, we can check the driver's passenger cam footage. All right, I'm in. No. No. No. That's him. Bishop.” 

The picture on the screen was definitely of Jake, and Ellie wanted to be relieved, but it wasn't enough. Not on its own. The hotel was still standing when he got in, and this wasn't a guarantee. “What's the timestamp?”

“Driver logged his ride from... 0713 to 0735.” 

“Bombs went off at 0720,” Ellie said, now letting herself feel the relief she so desperately wanted. She had proof. Jake hadn't been there. He'd been in that cab. He was safe.

“When Jake was across town.” 

She nodded. “He wasn't in the building. He's alive.”

* * *

Jake pulled on his suit jacket again, unable to look at the other survivors. He couldn't face them, ashamed as he was. Even if he had just gotten drunk, nothing more, he knew they hadn't, and they hadn't been with a suspected traitor when the bomb went off, either. Most of the others from the conference were in the hospital.

Some were dead.

He almost wished he was. He didn't understand why he was alive—or if he did, he didn't want to think about that. Could Taylor have actually spared him for... for sex? Was that what she'd done? Or was this all just her playing games with him? She'd never actually said she wanted to sleep with him, and he still couldn't remember what had happened after the minibar.

“Mr. Malloy?”

Jake looked over at the tired receptionist. “That's me. What do I need to do?”

She passed him some forms, and he took them, starting to look it over.

“I don't need to file for a new passport,” Jake told her. His had been in the briefcase he'd grabbed before he left with Taylor, so he was fine there. He didn't have to get a new one. “Can I just book a flight to DC and be done with—”

“I'm afraid you need to speak with my supervisor about that,” the woman said. She pointed him down the hall.

He frowned, not sure why she'd give him to a supervisor. This wasn't that complicated. It couldn't be. He had a passport, and he would have thought they'd rather send him on his way so they could help someone who actually needed it.

He knocked on the door, and it opened. The man at the desk waved him in, and he stepped inside only to stop when he saw another man in the room. He swallowed, jerking when he heard the door close behind him.

Jake looked between the two agents, the nausea he still felt getting worse. He looked between the two agents, not sure if he should be relieved or worried. Howard being here couldn't be good, though Jake knew that he and Sobek hadn't stopped watching Taylor, not when they suspected her of treason.

“Have a seat, Malloy.”

Jake did, mostly because he didn't trust himself on his feet with how lousy he still felt. He looked at the agent across the room. Howard was watching him, and that made Jake uncomfortable all over again. “Are you here to arrest her? Is it over?” 

“That depends on what you have to tell us,” Howard answered, and Jake frowned. “Did Matthews know about the bomb?”

“I think so,” Jake said. “She asked me to leave our hotel and go for something to eat not long before the bomb went off. I swear I saw the smoke when we were still in the cab. She said it was nothing.”

The agents exchanged looks. “She didn't tell you about the bomb in advance?”

“No. Do you think I would have gone with her if she had? I would have tried to tell someone. Only... I am starting to think that you already knew,” Jake said, choking down on something trying to come up from his stomach. “No. Tell me I am wrong about that. You didn't actually let people die just to catch her.”

“There was chatter. Nothing actionable, nothing confirmed, not before the bomb,” Sobek said, and Howard gave him a look. “Did you know about the chatter? Did she tell you?”

Jake shook his head. “No. She didn't say anything about it, not until we got to the other hotel and it was on the news. She said she was going to try and make contact—”

“Which neither of you did for almost a day after the attack.”

Jake frowned, rubbing his head. Had he actually been out for that long? A whole day? “I... It can't have been that long. I... I know I.... I must have passed out, but not for a full day.”

Howard moved forward. “What do you mean, you 'must have passed out?' Did you or didn't you pass out?”

Jake lowered his head. “I was alone with a woman I thought might have helped kill people. I didn't... I had a drink to keep myself calm. More than one.”

“Damn it, Malloy,” Howard said. “Do you have any idea—”

“I am aware that this... does not seem good for your case,” Jake said. “I... I thought she had been involved in the bombing. I couldn't get my phone to work, the one in the room didn't work, and I... I don't really remember what happened after I had the first few drinks. I... I would like to go home now.”

“We still need more information.”

Jake didn't. He knew, as a lawyer, that he should, but he didn't. “Taylor left before the bombing. She had to know in advance. I... I just don't have any corroborating proof.”

“You were supposed to have some by now.”

“And that's why you assigned me here? You don't think she thought that was at all suspicious?” Jake asked. He covered his mouth, trying to keep the bile down. He didn't know when he'd last ate, which probably hadn't helped with the whole getting drunk thing. “I... I am going to be sick.”

“We still have more questions for you.”

Jake sighed. “Do you want me to puke on you?”

“No, we wanted you to help us prove that Matthews was a traitor.”

“And since her leaving at the time of the bombing isn't enough, I think this proves that I am the wrong person for this,” Jake said, closing his eyes. “I want to go home.”

“We can't let you do that.”

“What?”

“Not yet,” Sobek said. “Just trust us, Malloy. Hopefully, this will all be over soon.”

* * *

“Can I get you anything?”

Jake shook his head, not wanting to look at Taylor. He didn't understand how he'd ended up alone with her again. He swore he'd just gone to the bathroom to puke, and when he got back, she was there. Howard and Sobek had disappeared.

Jake actually thought he hated them. “I'm still not feeling good, and while I'd like to go home...”

“They'll get your passport processed soon, I'm sure,” Taylor told him, touching his cheek. Jake pulled away, gagging. “You poor thing. You really are sick, aren't you?”

He had just wanted to get away from her, but he would let her think that. It wasn't completely untrue, either. He was sick. He'd had way too much to drink, and he still felt it.

“I'll see if I can get you something for it,” she said, giving him a smile, and Jake just stared after her, not sure what to think of any of this. She was acting almost like nothing happened, and she seemed to think that he didn't have his passport, which he wasn't sure he believed. She had hours when he was out of it to go through his briefcase.

He frowned, bending down to check it himself. His files were there, the notepad, his tablet, but no passport or wallet. Great. He took out his phone and grimaced, seeing that it now had service. He looked back at the door. She was gone. So were Howard and Sobek. Jake pulled up his contacts and made the call.

“'Bout damn time, Malloy.”

“It... It's been chaotic here, Gibbs,” Jake said, drawing his knees up against his chest. He shuddered, feeling strange, like someone had just touched him. “I... I'm not even sure of all that happened right now.”

“You're alive, though.”

“For now.”

“The hell does that mean?”

Jake sighed. He shouldn't have said that, shouldn't have called. “They don't have what they need to make a move against her. I don't... They want me to stay longer. I... I'm not sure I have a choice—my passport is missing.”

“You hurt?”

“I wasn't at the hotel when the bomb went off,” Jake said. As for hurt... He wasn't, though he was far from fine. “I... I think something already went wrong. I mean—obviously it did. The bombing. It... This is a giant mess, and I should have listened to you.”

Gibbs grunted. “You haven't spoken to Bishop, have you?”

Jake shook his head. He knew that Gibbs couldn't see it, but he didn't care. He didn't know how to talk to Ellie, not right now. He couldn't. Every time he thought of her, he was reminded of the way he woke up in the hotel room. He couldn't remember what happened, but that didn't change it if it had.

“She's worried.”

“I'll talk to her,” Jake said. “I—I just... Gibbs, I... I screwed up.”

“We'll deal with it when you get back. Call her.”

Jake heard the dial tone and sighed. He looked at the door again. Still no Taylor. He took a breath and let it out. He needed to call Ellie. He knew that. He studied the screen, touching the picture of her face.

The phone rang, and he almost jumped. Disgusted with himself, he answered the call.

“Jake?”

“Ellie,” he said, feeling sick all over again, but this time it was the guilt, only the guilt.

“It is so good to hear your voice. I was so worried.”

“I—You shouldn't even have known where I was to be worried,” Jake said, and then he winced. That gave Ellie no credit. She was a lot smarter than that. “I'm sorry. I... I really did want to tell you.”

“I know you couldn't. I just... had to know,” Ellie said. “I wanted to be sure you were safe, and then there was chatter, and then a bombing—”

“I wasn't there. I'm fine. I'm—I'm alive,” Jake corrected. He still couldn't say he was fine. He was stuck in a mess he had created. He knew that he could have—should have—said no when the NSA asked him to do this, and he should never have been alone with Taylor. Ever.

“You sound a little... off. Are you sure you weren't hurt?”

Jake nodded. “I... Physically, I'm fine. I'm still... not sure how to feel about any of this, and I do not want to be here one minute longer, but I seem to be stuck. No passport, no wallet—I'm at the embassy now, but it will be a while before I get back. Probably the end of the week at the earliest.”

“You're kidding. I mean, no, of course you're not. That stuff will take time. I'm just...” She sighed. “I miss you.”

“I miss you, too,” Jake told her, glad he didn't have to lie about that. “I—We need to talk. About... a lot of things. I... When I get back, maybe we can... go away for the weekend. Just the two of us. I... We really have to talk.”

“I know, and we will. A weekend away together is the least the NSA owes you, right?”

He winced. He didn't know about that. “Maybe that place in New York. You remember it? Of course you do. I've probably got the details wrong. I think it was an inn. It had that big four poster bed with the canopy I kept thinking was going to fall on us—”

“It was a bed and breakfast, and I must have quoted the statistics on bed canopy fatalities to you a hundred times that weekend,” she said, and he thought she was torn between amusement and tears. “You want to go back there?”

Jake didn't know. He didn't know what to do about anything, but he was hoping that he could do it if they were away together, if no one and nothing could interrupt them. “It might be good to have a place with few distractions. We barely left the room there. It was just... us.”

“Okay,” Ellie agreed. “That sounds good.”

Jake wanted to be relieved. He wasn't. He had to tell her, but he didn't want to. It was going to hurt her so much, and he hated himself for what he was almost certain he'd done. He didn't remember it, but it wasn't an excuse. “I suppose we might want to make sure that place is still there. I would if I had internet, but my phone wasn't working and I—”

“I will.”

He swallowed, hoping he could find some way to make this right. “I love you.”

“Love you, too. Bye.”

* * *

Ellie couldn't resist making another call to Jake's cellphone even though the last fifty hadn't been answered. She knew it was foolish, but she had to try. She felt better making the attempt. Knowing that Jake was alive helped, and their case was just about wrapped up, leaving her with nothing to do but wait.

She had never been good at waiting. 

The call connected, and she almost missed it, about to hang up when she saw the numbers moving on the screen. “Jake?”

“Ellie,” he said, and she had to grab hold of something to keep herself steady. She wanted to believe that Jake was alive, but she had her doubts. Now she had him on the phone, and while it wasn't the same as seeing or holding him, she could talk to him again.

“It is so good to hear your voice,” she told him. “I was so worried.”

“I—You shouldn't even have known where I was to be worried,” Jake said, and she rolled her eyes. She wasn't an idiot. He'd been acting so weird before he left she had to know where he was going to be. “I'm sorry. I... I really did want to tell you.”

“I know you couldn't. I just... had to know,” Ellie said. She had thought that knowledge would be a comfort to her, and it was at first. “I wanted to be sure you were safe, and then there was chatter, and then a bombing—”

“I wasn't there. I'm fine,” he said, and then he corrected himself. “I'm—I'm alive.”

She didn't like the sound of that. The way he'd said that, the tone... He wasn't okay. He wasn't, and she could tell, but she couldn't see him to ask why or look him over herself. “You sound a little... off. Are you sure you weren't hurt?”

“I... Physically, I'm fine. I'm still... not sure how to feel about any of this, and I do not want to be here one minute longer, but I seem to be stuck. No passport, no wallet—I'm at the embassy now, but it will be a while before I get back. Probably the end of the week at the earliest.”

“You're kidding,” Ellie said, frustrated. She didn't believe this. Jake should be able to get on a flight right now. She should have been able to have him back. “I mean, no, of course you're not. That stuff will take time. I'm just...”

She leaned back against the wall, closing her eyes. “I miss you.”

“I miss you, too. I—We need to talk. About... a lot of things. I... When I get back, maybe we can... go away for the weekend. Just the two of us. I... We really have to talk.”

“I know, and we will,” she agreed, though she winced when she remembered the last time she promised him that. She tried to sound optimistic instead, pushing away from the wall and heading back toward her desk. “A weekend away together is the least the NSA owes you, right?”

“Maybe that place in New York. You remember it?” Jake asked, and she did, not sure she could forget. She'd loved that place even though he'd been on edge for the first part of the trip. “Of course you do. I've probably got the details wrong. I think it was an inn. It had that big four poster bed with the canopy I kept thinking was going to fall on us—”

“It was a bed and breakfast, and I must have quoted the statistics on bed canopy fatalities to you a hundred times that weekend,” she said, wanting to laugh even as tears threatened to spill out of her eyes. She took a breath and tried to calm her voice. “You want to go back there?”

Jake sounded reluctant, but she wasn't sure what was going on with him. She wished she was having this conversation in person. “It might be good to have a place with few distractions. We barely left the room there. It was just... us.”

“Okay,” Ellie agreed, knowing that they did have to talk, even if she was starting to be afraid of what she might hear. She rounded the corner to her desk. “That sounds good.”

“I suppose we might want to make sure that places is still there. I would if I had internet, but my phone wasn't working and I—”

“I will.” She would make all the arrangements. It would give her something to do to stay busy and positive until he got back home where he belonged.

“I love you.”

She didn't know why neither of them had said that sooner. “Love you, too. Bye.”

Aware of eyes on her, she sat down and took a breath before looking at her teammates. “That was Jake. He's at the US Embassy. NSA cut his assignment short, and he will be back at the end of the week.” 

“Sounds like a perfect time for a vacation,” Tony said, his hands full.

“That is exactly what Jake said,” Ellie said, though she was admittedly still worried. Jake hadn't sounded right on the phone. She wasn't sure if it was his brush with death or something else, but she knew it wasn't just that he was in another country.

Something was still wrong.

“So,” McGee said, “you coming?” 

She shook her head, needing a minute to deal with what she had been thinking. “Uh, not just yet. You guys go ahead.” 

“Wait. Almost forgot,” McGee said, reaching into his pocket and taking out a small box. He held it out to her. “Abby wanted me to give these to you. She ordered me not to open them on pain of death.” 

“All right, come on, McGee,” Tony said, holding up his hands like he'd won something. “We got a date with some rubber gloves and lotion. Let's make this happen.” 

Ellie frowned, and McGee grimaced before shaking his head. “Don't ask.”

She didn't intend to. Sometimes, she did not need to know, and while she was often curious, she knew her mind was still occupied with thoughts of Jake. She looked down at her box, opening it up. She smiled at the inscription—Abby really was sweet even if Ellie didn't think she was up to being any part of a dream team.

She put the ring back in its box and put it away, storing it in her desk for now. She turned, playing with the band on her ring finger. Jake was alive. She should be glad, and she was. She was relieved.

Only she wasn't.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jake's homecoming is less of a reprieve than anyone thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So as much as I kind of thought maybe I could make this almost work with the show's timeline, it's probably not going to. I think things would go much faster this way, though I'm not sure.
> 
> I'm trying to work with it, but time is so pesky and difficult.
> 
> In all, it doesn't seem like this story should be as bad as I keep thinking it is, as in need of edits and all, but I think the one at the beginning is still necessary, and I'm not sure just adding it was enough.

* * *

The elevator doors opened, and Gibbs came face-to-face with the woman he was looking for. He'd seen McGee and DiNozzo on their way out, and he'd just checked the lot, so he knew her truck was still there. She had to be inside, and he wanted to get a look at her before he left, in part because he'd promised Malloy and in part because his gut said something was real wrong there, but also because she was part of his team and he knew she was hurting, even if she wasn't showing it.

“Oh,” Bishop said, sounding like she'd hoped to avoid him. “I thought you already left.” 

“No,” Gibbs told her. He'd come close, since he'd been in the lot when he got Malloy's call, but even without it, he'd have wanted to see her condition for himself. “Looking for you.” 

She nodded, stepping into the elevator. Her eyes had a bright sheen to them, as though now the tears she'd refused to shed earlier were about to come. “It's been a long two days, Gibbs. Don't really want to talk about it right now.” 

“Good by me,” Gibbs said, pushing the button to send the elevator down. The doors closed with a ding, and he looked down at his coffee.

She reached over to stop the elevator. “Seven minutes. That's how close Jake came.” 

Gibbs just watched her, aware of that fact already. He didn't know that Malloy was feeling it yet—Gibbs thought the man was still in shock and also preoccupied by the NSA's nonsense. 

“Four hundred and twenty seconds and...” The tears were coming now, quietly rolling down her cheeks. “I could've lost him, Gibbs.” 

“But you didn't lose him, Ellie,” Gibbs told her. “Jake's safe, and he's coming home.”

She kept nodding, like she was trying to accept that and believe it, but she couldn't. Gibbs had talked to Malloy himself, and he knew that the other man was alive. Gibbs would make sure he told her about the traitor and the reason for this damned assignment when he did.

Gibbs reached over and pulled her into his arms, giving her the comfort she needed but her husband was too far away to give. “Everything's gonna be all right.”

* * *

“Jake?”

He looked over at Taylor, and she smiled at him, holding up a very recognizable pink bottle. He grimaced, though maybe it would help. The other option was just as vivid—looked like some kind of sports drink in bright blue.

He didn't want either of them, though, and definitely not from her.

“I was thinking you might stay with me again. Just until they sort this passport mess out. There's so many people here trying to find a place to sleep, but you don't have to stay in the embassy. You could come with me.”

He knew that was what Howard and Sobek would want, since they figured Jake would get information from her if he went with her again, but Jake did not want to be alone with her. Never again. He couldn't trust himself.

Jake forced a smile. “I'm fine. I have the bank app on my phone, and it's working again—”

“It is?” Taylor asked, taking out her own phone. “That's strange. Mine isn't. Are you sure yours is? Maybe something's wrong with mine.”

Jake took out his phone and frowned. He didn't have service again. That was weird. He knew he'd been able to call Gibbs and Ellie earlier. “I don't understand.”

“Must be going in and out,” Taylor said, leaning into him. “Really, I don't mind sharing.”

“Taylor, I know I had too much to drink last time and I'm not really sure what—”

“Don't worry about it. You were fine. I promise I didn't have a problem with anything you did,” she said, giving him a smile that made him sick. He had—no, he hadn't—he'd remember that—but he'd been so drunk... “I think you need this.”

He took the bottle from her and sighed. He probably did need it, but he didn't want anything from her. He looked up at her, swallowing. He needed to ask her for the truth, the part he didn't remember, but he didn't want to. A part of him never wanted that confirmed.

“You should rest. And not here.”

“I think I should try taking some of this before I do anything,” Jake said. “After that, I'll see how I feel.”

“All right,” she said, giving his cheek a pat before leaving him alone.

* * *

“Rise and shine. The embassy just called. Your passport's ready.”

Jake opened his eyes and frowned. This was not where he was supposed to be. He'd had an uncomfortable chair, but that was not a headboard. Not a bed. “I... I was at the embassy. Why would they call when I didn't actually leave the embassy?”

Taylor shook his head. “You're at my hotel. You must have been sicker than I thought to forget that. You were so miserable there, though that may have been your own fault.”

“What?”

“You didn't try the medicine first,” she said, sitting down next to him. “I think you'd had most of that sports drink by the time I came back to check on you. You were worse, and then when the bismuth didn't help, I got you in a cab and brought you back here. You've been mostly asleep since, but I didn't think you'd forget all of that, either.”

Jake curled up into a ball, not feeling a shirt again and not liking this because he swore he wouldn't have done it. Not again. He didn't care how miserable he was. He'd sworn he wouldn't be alone with Taylor again, and here he was. Alone. In another compromised position.

“Taylor, this isn't—”

“Shh,” she said, touching his cheek. “A little sickness between friends is nothing.”

Jake shook his head, closing his eyes and trying to understand how he'd managed to end up here. He knew better, and he'd said he was done with this, with her. He couldn't get them what they wanted, proof that she was a traitor. He wasn't meant for undercover work. All he'd done was screw it up, and he couldn't keep going like this.

“The bomb,” Jake said, looking over at her. “Did... we left right before...”

“Oh, Jake,” she said, shaking her head and giving him a look full of pity. “Don't do that to yourself. Don't blame yourself for surviving. It wasn't your fault.”

“I...” Jake sighed. That wasn't what he was asking at all.

“Let's go get your passport. You'll feel a lot better when you're home again.”

* * *

“You didn't have to come with me.”

Gibbs grunted. He didn't, but he'd told her it would be okay, and he didn't like making promises like that. Too much was out of his control. He didn't know what was going on with Malloy, if he'd managed to end this threat at the NSA or if he was still right in the middle of that mess, still in danger. He was alive, or had been when he told Bishop what flight he was taking.

That had to be enough for now.

He watched as the passengers from Malloy's flight disembarked, waiting for the crowd to pass and a familiar face to show itself. When it did, all he could do was frown.

Malloy's luggage had likely been destroyed in the bombing, even if he wasn't there when it happened, but the clothes he wore didn't look like his. The yoga set fit better, and he seemed less comfortable now than he had then. A woman in a suit touched his arm, and he pulled away, shaking his head.

“I told you—I'm fine. Just leave me alone,” Malloy said, and Gibbs heard Bishop mutter a name under her breath.

“You were sick again on the flight and you jumped when I touched you—”

“I'm fine,” Malloy repeated. “And... it looks like I have a ride home, so you don't have to worry about that. Excuse me.”

Malloy came closer to him. “Gibbs, I know I didn't tell you when my flight was. Did something happen—is Ellie—”

“Right here,” she said, wrapping her arms so tight around her husband that he grunted. “I was so worried. I didn't—I'm glad you're back. It—it wasn't—I had to see you for myself.”

Malloy flinched, lowering his head against her shoulder. “I'm know. I...”

“Was that Taylor? What did she want?”

Malloy tensed. “It—I don't know. Can we just... go? Please? I'm sorry. It has been... a nightmare since that bomb went off, and I don't—”

“Of course,” Bishop said. “Let's just get your suitcase—oh, you don't have one anymore, do you? It was at the hotel.”

“It was just clothes. Mostly,” he told her. “Not that the toiletries matter, but... I made the mistake of bringing that shirt you talked me into on our honeymoon—the one with that—well...”

Bishop smiled, and Gibbs figured whatever it said or pictured had to be risque. “I guess we'll have to get you another.”

“It's not that—it wasn't about the shirt—I've never been all that comfortable wearing it, but it... it always reminded me of you. Of us. Of how it was back then. It was supposed to... Oh, hell...”

She embraced him again. “Jake, it's okay. You're here. You're home. You're safe.”

He snorted, and Gibbs frowned. The man had to tell her what he'd gotten himself into and how bad things really were.

“We should go home,” Bishop told him, reaching up to touch his face. “I'm sorry. I'll probably keep doing that. I'm just... Touch is confirmation, and I need it and—”

“I know,” Malloy said. “I think I tried to hold onto you for two days straight after you were deployed to Afghanistan.”

“Only two days?” Gibb asked, and they both looked at him.

“Gibbs,” Malloy said, tensing up. “I'm sorry. I can't talk now. I...”

Gibbs gave him a look, but then he wouldn't expect him to talk about a classified operation and suspected traitor in the middle of the airport. “I'll drop you off at your apartment.”

“Thank you, Gibbs,” Bishop said. “Now I know why you came.”

Gibbs folded his arms over his chest. “Do you?”

She grinned. “This way I don't have to let go.”

* * *

Tony set his bag next to his desk, turning back to frown across the room. He studied the other agent with a frown. Something was very wrong with this picture. Why was the probie back at work the day after she got her husband home? She should still be fussing. Or having marathon sex. Maybe things in casa de Bishop were still bad.

“What's up, Bishop?”

“Research.”

Tony shook his head, crossing the room. “You just got Jake back after a bombing, and you're here doing research?”

She nodded, biting her lip. “I didn't want to do it at the apartment.”

“You don't want him to know what you were looking up,” Tony said. “Okay, I'll bite. What has you so worried you're here, trying to keep him from knowing what you're up to?”

Bishop grimaced. “Jake had a nightmare last night. Actually, two of them. Both times, when he woke up, he wouldn't let me touch him. I asked him about it, but he said he didn't remember them. And he still insists that he wasn't there when the bomb went off.”

“And you think he was?”

She ran her hands over her face. “I don't know. It doesn't make sense. I was trying to find out if there were other cases of survivor's guilt like this. Jake should have been there, and he may be feeling somehow... guilty or responsible, but he isn't. Responsible, I mean. He seems almost...”

“What?”

“It could be PTSD, but if it is...” Bishop shook her head. “Too extreme, right? He wasn't even there, or so he keeps insisting, but he isn't acting like himself. Maybe I'm overreacting. He just... he's been different since he got back.”

“Last night,” Tony reminded her. Then he frowned. “Whatever happened to that vacation you were supposed to take?”

“We're going to a bed and breakfast this weekend. I already made all the arrangements.”

Tony nodded. “Sounds good. So you just have to make it to the weekend.”

Bishop frowned. “You think that I should just wait? That Jake will be fine by this weekend?”

Tony shrugged. He didn't know for sure. He couldn't say what was going on with Bishop's husband, but being close to a bomb like that would screw with anyone. Maybe Jake just needed a few days to adjust to being home. He knew waiting sucked, but it would give her a better idea what was going on with Jake—if anything.

“I'm saying it's too soon to tell.”

Bishop sighed. “I guess... I'm just worried I haven't really gotten him back.”

“Time,” Tony told her. “It won't sink in until you give it enough time. Of course, I'm saying that about people actually being gone, but... it's almost the same thing, isn't it?”

Bishop nodded.

* * *

Jake looked at his phone, declining the call again. He wasn't talking to Taylor. He didn't care what she wanted or the NSA wanted. He wanted nothing to do with her now. He couldn't face her, and he was having a hard time facing anyone. He knew he was supposed to be back to work, but he wanted to call in sick.

He shook his head, pulling on his dress shirt. He started buttoning it up as he walked toward the kitchen. He finished, about to get himself some coffee when he heard the knock on the door. He stopped, staring at it. He didn't want to answer. What if that was Taylor? 

No, he wasn't doing it.

He went to the coffee pot, picking it up and pouring some into a cup. He put the pot back and lifted the cup to his lips when the pounding on the door got louder. He sighed. He knew that she wasn't going away. He'd thought that before, that she was leaving, and she'd come back. She'd convinced him to go to her hotel, and he still didn't remember that.

Fine. He set the cup down, crossing over to the door. He stopped, taking a breath. He'd open it, close it, and send her on her way.

He opened the door, frowning. “Agent Howard?”

“You're late.”

Jake didn't bother looking at his watch. He knew he was. “That doesn't merit you making a house call. You are still watching Taylor, aren't you? So if you are, then you know she's not here. Then again, I'm not so sure you came here because you were concerned about me. What do you want?”

“You were alone with Agent Matthews. More than once.”

“I told you—she didn't tell me anything,” Jake said. He frowned. “Wait—you're at my door. You're not having this conversation where she can't see it or where it can't be overheard. And she just called me, so it's not like she's been arrested. What is going on?”

“You were alone with Matthews,” Howard said. “What happened when you were?”

Jake swallowed. “Why are you asking me that?”

“Start by telling me what happened, and we'll see if there's cause for concern.”

“I...” Jake shook his head. “No. You tell me why you're here. I've already answered that question. I did it before you took my passport, and I did it again after you gave it back.”

“You said that you were sick. That you went with her to the hotel.”

Jake nodded, though he still didn't remember it. “That's what I was told. I still don't remember leaving the embassy, but I did wake up there, so it wasn't like I could deny it. I just... Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You told us that you didn't want to be a part of the investigation anymore.”

“Which is still true,” Jake said. “I didn't intend to go with her. I wouldn't have had to if someone hadn't taken my passport from my bag—”

“Which you accuse us of doing.”

“Wait—you—you're saying _I_ did that?” Jake demanded. “No. No, if it wasn't you, then it must have been her, but she seemed to think I never had it. I don't know if she was just that good a liar or if I'm bad at reading people or—”

Jake stopped himself, feeling sick. “You don't believe me, do you?”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jake continues to be in over his head, and Ellie continues to be confused by his behavior.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was the point at which I knew I had to go back and fix the story. I'd thought that just continuing on was enough, and I'd written most of the next chapter before I was fully convinced I was wrong. So I have changed the opening, and yet this is more or less the same. 
> 
> I had to do it, had to show why this story was possible, since it wasn't clear before. 
> 
> I always said if someone cheated on me, it was all over. And a former friend of mine knows (should know) that her lying made it so I could never trust her again and we're not friends anymore. So why would I defend Jake in this circumstance? 
> 
> I think that the decision to have Jake cheat had to do more with actor's commitments and possibly the plan to pair Bishop up with a new agent coming in to the team in season fourteen, not at all with what they'd shown of Jake's character prior to Day in Court. In fact, the way it was handled after having Viral feels like a bait and switch, especially since Ellie at first doesn't believe it and Gibbs didn't see it. None of that rings true for me, which is why I've written as much AU stuff for Jake/Ellie as I have. And this one is still AU, I suppose, but it could explain canon, which is why I had to do it. This is the only way canon works for me, and even then... I still prefer AU.

* * *

“You can test for that, can't you?”

Abby winced. “Yes, Gibbs, there is a test for it. Can I do it on Jake? No. It's been weeks since this happened, and if the test isn't done within seventy-two hours, it's no good. We won't find any trace of it in Jake's system.”

“It's not like it matters,” Jake said, leaning against the counter and lowering his head, pinching his nose like he had a headache. “It doesn't change anything.”

Abby frowned. “How can you say that? This would change everything.”

Jake shook his head. “It still happened. I thought I'd just drank too much. It wasn't an excuse. Whatever happened between me and Taylor... it still happened. I still screwed up. I... I should go. I have to find a lawyer.”

“You didn't already have one?”

Jake snorted. “Gibbs, I am a suspected traitor. I don't have the kind of rights a normal citizen has. I'm sure they would have argued that I was acting as my own defense if someone did think that they couldn't use the patriot act in my case.”

Abby held up a hand. “Wait. I thought we were just clearing up this whole betraying Ellie and therefore all of us thing—what is this about you being a traitor? That leak that Ellie mentioned—you actually did that?”

“No, but Taylor says I did.”

* * *

_Earlier_

“You have a case?”

Ellie winced. “Jake, please don't be like that. You know that it's not about not wanting to be with you. This is about helping Ducky, and if it wasn't—then you know that I would be packed and ready to leave right now, but it's Ducky.”

Jake turned away, swallowing. “Ellie, I thought we agreed we were going away to talk. I... I don't think that should wait—”

“Is there a reason you can't talk to me here?” Ellie asked, frowning. She knew Jake was still having nightmares, and he wouldn't talk about them, but he shouldn't be holding them as some excuse for this trip. He could talk to her here. There was no reason why he couldn't. He was here, so was she, if he had something to say, why not do it now?

“I...” Jake lowered his head. “I can't do this. Not now. Not here. Please. Ask Gibbs for the time off. I think he'd understand if you did.”

Ellie went around to face him. “What I don't understand is why you can't say anything to me here. You know that if you have something to say, it shouldn't wait. What is going on? Is this... You're not planning on filing for divorce or something and you want to—”

“No.” Jake grimaced, shaking his head. “You know what, forget it. It's not important. It... Go help Ducky. Just... go.”

“I am willing to listen if you'd just tell me what's going on,” Ellie said, but Jake pulled away from her, going to the door. He left, and she stood there, staring at the door and wondering what the hell was going on with him.

* * *

“Something bothering you, Elanor?”

She started, grimacing. “I'm sorry, Ducky. I didn't mean to lose focus. I know that this is important to you, and I don't want to make you think I'm not—”

“I am aware that you just got your husband back, and your mind may well be on him, understandably so. I know he was uninjured in the attack, but that does not mean it hasn't affected both of you to some degree.”

Ellie nodded. “I thought I had lost him. I almost did. It made me realize how much... how I'd feel if he was gone, and that was something... that hit harder than I would have thought. We... We've had so many problems that I figured a part of me might have been relieved, but I was just... scared. Not because—as my dad likes to say—that Jake is my comfort zone, but because I still love him.”

“You had your doubts?”

She winced. “I think we both did. I mean, with as many fights and as out of sync as we were, how things seemed to get worse as we tried to fix them, not better, I was starting to wonder if maybe we just weren't facing it. That we'd fallen out of love but refused to admit it.”

“Perhaps, in some strange measure, this was the sort of wake up call you needed, the one that got you to remember how and what you felt about each other.”

Elanor nodded. “Maybe. Or maybe Jake got a different wake up call. He hasn't been himself since he got back, and he won't talk to me. He seemed to think he had to do it when we went away for the weekend, and he wouldn't tell me what it was when I asked him directly. I'm not sure what to think anymore.”

“Perhaps, my dear, you should take that weekend away.”

* * *

“We need to talk, Malloy.”

Jake sat down, not sure how to take Howard's words. He wanted to hear that they were done. They'd finished their investigation into Taylor—one way or another—and that was it. He wasn't needed, he didn't have to be a part of this, and he could stop lying to everyone. Himself, most of all.

Maybe Ellie was right. Maybe he should just have told her, let her divorce him and let it be over with. It had to be, didn't it? If he was right about what he thought he must have done, then he deserved it. He didn't deserve forgiveness. He should let her go. She should have much better than this.

“Are you done with your investigation?”

“No. Agent Matthews' behavior is still suspect, but then... she's not the only one.”

Jake shook his head. “I only got involved in this because you and Sobek asked me to. I thought I was doing something good for the agency, for the country—protecting national security. I'd already agreed when you said it was Taylor you wanted me to watch and report on, that you were hoping to exploit some crush she seemed to have on me... And that should have told me to back out. I didn't, and I will regret that for the rest of my life.”

“You weren't at the hotel when it was bombed.”

“Because I went with Taylor like I thought I should because you wanted proof and maybe she'd open up to me at the breakfast she wanted to eat. I thought it was safe,” Jake said. He shook his head. “I'm an idiot. Now are we done? I can't help you anymore. I never managed to do anything useful in the first place, but I'm not—”

“If Agent Matthews is not our leak, then we have to look at other possibilities.”

Jake gagged, standing up. He shook his head, starting to pace. “No. No, you are not telling me that you're now convinced I did this. Why would I agree to investigate for you? Why would you even have come to me in the first place if you thought I was the one that—oh, no. You were playing us against each other? It was either her or me, and now you think it's just me?”

“The leak came from someone with high level access. Your level or hers.”

“It had to be hers,” Jake insisted. “I didn't do it. I haven't even been able to—I haven't been able to tell my wife what happened. I can't tell her what I did when I'm just filing affidavits, and I hate it because we used to discuss everything, but now we don't talk. I don't—if I was going to tell someone things I shouldn't, it would be Ellie, and it isn't. I didn't do this.”

“We can't just take your word for it,” Howard said. “You and Matthews walked away from that bombing unscathed. A lot of others are dead.”

“Do you think I don't know that?” Jake demanded. “I do. It's—I have nightmares. And I can't stand being touched because it reminds me of Taylor. I think she killed those people, and I don't know why she lured me out of there, but I almost wish she hadn't.”

“Give us something we can use against her. What happened when you were alone with her?”

“Damn it, I told you—I don't remember. I don't. I shouldn't even have been there the second time. I'd sworn I wasn't... I don't...” Jake sat back down again, putting his head in his hands. “I can't do this. I can't remember, and I can't keep lying to Ellie, and I can't—”

“You have to give us something. Right now, you look just as guilty as Matthews does.”

* * *

“I know it's not the same as going away, but I think it was good that we had a night out together,” Ellie said, and Jake tried to force a smile. She'd arranged all of this, and he went along with it, all the while hating himself. He couldn't find a way to explain what happened when he was alone with Taylor, not besides the suspicions that he still hated himself for, and he didn't have any answers for Howard or Sobek.

Or Ellie.

The whole night, he'd tried to find words, something that would allow him to tell her, but then he'd thought he'd seen Sobek during the intermission, and that threw him off again. Could he tell her with the NSA watching? Wouldn't that just condemn him further?

“Here we are,” the hostess said as she stopped in front of a booth. “Your table.”

“Oh, this is great,” Jake said, letting Ellie pick her side first, needing to delay the idea of actually eating. He didn't think he could. “Thanks.”

“Thank you,” Ellie said as she sat down, giving the waitress a smile as she accepted her menu. Jake took the other side of the booth, almost afraid to look and see if the NSA agents had followed him. 

“And the wine list,” the waitress said. “Enjoy.”

“Gershwin music, symphony orchestra,” Ellie began, smiling warmly at him, “that was just what I needed tonight. Didn't you love it?”

Jake didn't think he remembered the concert at all. He'd been too stressed and nervous, and he'd actually had to refuse Ellie's hand when she tried to take his, thinking he'd hurt her as he fidgeted. 

She leaned over the table, again reaching for his hands. “I'm glad we went.”

“Mmm,” Jake said, afraid he had seen Howard this time. It was just out of the corner of his eye, but it worried him. He really was a suspect now, wasn't he? He'd screwed up everything.

“I wish we could get out more often. We haven't had a night like this since you got back from Dubai,” Ellie said, taking his hand. “I'm sorry we didn't go on the trip we were going to take.”

He stared at her hands. “It... I'm... It didn't really matter.”

“Thank God you weren't hurt.” 

“Yeah, I was lucky,” Jake said, though he didn't feel lucky. He felt like scum, the worst person on earth, and he was pretty sure the NSA thought he was, too. 

“Why you weren't there when the bomb went off?” 

Jake pulled his hands away from hers, feeling the accusation not only from Ellie but from Howard and Sobek. He knew he wasn't a traitor, but he didn't know that anyone else would believe that, especially not if they knew what he thought had happened in that hotel room.

“The agency's been asking me the same question,” Jake admitted, feeling sick all over again. “There was a threat assessment before the conference, and it was covered up and then leaked. They suspect that I had knowledge of it.” 

“Did you?” 

He stared at her. So much for hoping she'd believe him. If the NSA did accuse him, she'd be right there with them, locking him away for good. “Ellie...”

“Well, where were you?”

Jake wasn't sure. He could have left that hotel room. Or he could have done exactly what he feared. Was he really that incapable of self-control? Had he really forgotten because he drank too much or just because he was too ashamed to remember what he'd done?

“You know, this...” Jake wanted to explain, but he couldn't. He knew he was in trouble, but he couldn't tell her. A part of him wanted to leave. To get away from all of it, but he'd definitely seem guilty then. Everyone would think he was a part of Matthews' treachery. “It's so frustrating.” 

“Is this why you've been so distracted and distant lately?” 

It was, and it wasn't. It was so much more complicated than he could say. “When you had NSA clearance, we could discuss things, at lunch, at home. But now...” 

“I know. I understand, and... I hate it,” Ellie admitted. She seemed just as frustrated as he did. “I miss our sneaking off to lunch at Chez Nicole.”

“You know, I still go there almost every day,” Jake told her. It was stupid, but he did. “By myself.” 

She shook her head. “We have got to spend more time together.”

He nodded. “Maybe we could... try going away together again. Just... a weekend. Like we didn't do before—”

“I'd like that,” she said, reaching over and taking his hand again.

* * *

Jake sat down at his table, knowing he was an idiot, but he wanted the comfort after the day he'd had and the thoughts going around in his head. He knew he could end this, all of this, with a confession—which he wouldn't do because he hadn't leaked any information and wasn't about to say he was a traitor. He could resign, and the accusation would follow him, but if he went into some kind of civil law, it wouldn't matter. He wouldn't have clearance anymore, so he wouldn't be considered any real kind of threat. He probably wouldn't end up arrested.

He grimaced. He didn't know how he would defend himself if that happened. He knew that he would be in trouble—he had bent the rules more than once for Ellie, and that wouldn't look good, not when he survived this bombing but couldn't remember what he'd actually done.

And that. He had to come clean to Ellie about that. He'd messed up, and he'd betrayed her, and she needed to know the truth. Lying wasn't making it better. He couldn't keep doing it.

“You are such a creature of habit.”

Jake looked up, frowning at Taylor. “What are you doing here?”

She smiled at him. “Joining you for lunch. You looked so forlorn over here that someone had to put you out of your misery and give you some company.”

He hadn't seen her come in. He didn't think she even knew about this place. “I... I'm fine. I don't need company. I just... I'm not even hungry, so I don't know why I'm here.”

“Okay, that settles it,” Taylor said. “You _are_ avoiding me, aren't you?”

Jake swallowed. He hadn't wanted to do this, but she was here, and maybe he shouldn't waste this chance because he was already in too deep. “Taylor, what happened in Dubai?”

“What do you mean, what happened in Dubai? There was a bombing. We survived. None of that should be hard to forget.”

Jake shook his head. “I'm not talking about that. I mean in the hotel. Afterward. I started drinking. I was... I don't even know what I was thinking, but I had too much, and I don't remember what happened. Did... Did you...”

“Did I what?”

He was getting really frustrated with Taylor's innocent act. “What actually happened? I was fully dressed when I had that drink. I woke up without my clothes. And I want an explanation.”

She laughed. “That needs an explanation? I think you can do the math on that.”

Jake gagged. “No. I—I can't. Because that's not me, and it's not what I would do, and I don't see how that could have—”

“I think I'm about to get insulted,” Taylor said. “Exactly what are you accusing me of, Malloy? You don't even know, do you?”

Jake couldn't actually deny that. He didn't know because he didn't remember. “I just want the truth about what happened that night. That day. It was that day. Damn it, Taylor, I don't know what I did or didn't do, but I have to know. I have to... I may have to...”

“What, leave your wife?” Taylor asked, and Jake looked around at the restaurant, sure someone else had heard her say that. “Maybe that was something you should have done a long time ago. You yourself said you weren't happy.”

“I said we were having problems. I didn't actually say that—”

“If you can't be man enough to acknowledge what you did, then we have nothing more to discuss,” Taylor said, rising from the table.

Jake sat back in the chair, running a hand over his face. What had he done?


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The rest of Day in Court, where Ellie finds out what happened in Dubai.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had another moment of "why did I write this story?" earlier. It was in part because what I was writing was difficult to do, but I was also having issues with the main point of this story. The idea was to reconcile canon, as much as that is possible, and this is the closest I come to that, but as I wrote the separation and all the pain that went with it, I had to wonder why I tried.
> 
> There's no good in this plot line. I was so much better off diverting this before it happened. I desperately want some fluff now. I just wish I knew how to write it. I might end up with another long one on my hands instead. *sigh*

* * *

Ellie frowned, the image of Jake arguing with Taylor Matthews at the restaurant replaying in her head. She felt hurt, in part because he'd said he went to lunch alone, but mostly because he was still keeping things from her. He'd barely mentioned the possibility of being under investigation, but if Taylor was there, then he had to be.

He was in trouble, but he wouldn't let her help him. She didn't see why not. Jake knew she was there for him. She might not have been perfect, but she _was_ an investigator. She could help. She knew that. She wanted to, wanted to get things back the way they used to be.

The elevator stopped, and Ellie got out, going to the door. “Hey, Abs.”

“Bishop,” Abby said, greeting her warmly. “I got something. The bills from Joy Vanatter's body—they're all relatively new. The serial numbers are sequential. So I put a call in to the Federal Reserve to see what bank they were distributed to.” 

“That's great,” Ellie told her. Anything that might close this case was welcome, but Ellie had to admit, her mind wasn't on the case right now. “But I need help with something else.” 

Abby smiled. “I'm all yours.” 

“Three weeks ago, when I didn't know if Jake was dead or alive in Dubai, Delilah and I were in MTAC, and she accessed a Dubai taxi passenger-cam,” Ellie began, swallowing. She wasn't sure she should do this, but she had to know. “Any way you can pull that up?” 

“Oh, yeah,” Abby said, making it sound way too easy, which apparently it was. “If it was in MTAC, it'll be on the archival hard drive. Why do you want to see it again?” 

Ellie winced. “I was so excited to see Jake alive that I didn't pay attention to who the other passenger was in the backseat of the taxi.”

Abby worked until she pulled up the photo on the screen. “That it?” 

Ellie nodded. That was definitely the picture, and while there was a seat in the way, she could see that the hair was the same. She didn't like this at all. 

“What?” Abby asked, looking at Ellie with worry. 

“I just saw Jake with a woman in a restaurant,” Ellie admitted. She almost wished she hadn't gone to surprise Jake today. “I'm pretty sure it's her. They were in a really heavy discussion.” 

Abby looked back at the picture, frowning as she voiced Ellie's worst fear. “You don't think something's going on between them, do you?” 

“It crossed my mind, but I'm not going there,” Ellie said. She refused to believe that Jake had cheated on her. He wasn't the type. That couldn't be true. “I know her. Her name's Taylor Matthews. She's NSA's version of Internal Affairs. I think Jake's in trouble.” 

Abby bit her lip. Ellie wasn't sure if she thought this was worse than Jake having an affair or not. Ellie knew that Abby knew more about their problems than most of the others, but she wouldn't think that Ellie was better off if he cheated and she had a reason to end things, would she? “Why?” 

“He told me there'd been a leak, that he was under suspicion,” Ellie said, thinking of how bad it had to look that he'd left the hotel right before the bombing. Where had he been? “She was reprimanding him.”

“I think you have to talk to him,” Abby said. “You have to get him to tell you the truth.”

* * *

Ellie must have been crazy. Going down into Gibbs' basement was not right. She should be at her apartment, but she didn't want to sit there and stare at the walls, going out of her mind with worry. She knew Jake was in trouble, and he'd sounded upset and distracted on the phone when she spoke to him earlier, when he'd said he wasn't coming home. 

“Hey, Bishop,” Gibbs said, looking up from the boat. “It's after midnight. You okay?” 

“No.” She wanted to deny it, but she couldn't. She was far from fine. She hadn't been since Dubai, not when she was honest about it. She'd been as messed up by that as Jake was. And now it seemed to be getting worse. “Been... just... driving around. Didn't really want to go home to an empty apartment.” 

Gibbs watched her, saying nothing.

She came closer to his project, shaking her head with wonder. “Really is a boat in here. I thought Tony was just punking me.” 

Gibbs snorted. “Where's Jake?” 

“Not really sure,” Ellie admitted. Jake hadn't said where he was going. Just that it was a crisis and he wouldn't be home. “Said he was working.” 

“You don't believe him?” Gibbs asked, frowning. She could have told him about the possibility of an affair. She could have told him she didn't want to believe it but with Jake holding out on her, she wasn't sure of anything. 

“I don't know what to believe.” 

“Here, sit down,” Gibbs told her, guiding her over to the chair at the workbench. He got her in the chair and leaned against the bench. “You talk, I'll listen.” 

“It's... it's the same thing as always,” she said, shaking her head. “It's Jake's work. He won't tell me anything. He can't.”

She tired to accept that, but she hadn't. She tried to be okay with it, and she wasn't. She was tired of lies and secrets, of Jake stopping himself from telling her anything, of the silence.

“I hate the NSA. He hides everything behind a veil of secrecy.” 

Gibbs studied her. “What's he hiding?” 

“I think he's being investigated by Internal Affairs,” Ellie said, grimacing. Could that be her fault? Was it because of what he'd done for them, in giving them that hard drive? 

“Why?” 

“There's been a leak at the agency.” 

Gibbs waited. She didn't know if he expected her to say more or not. She didn't have any details. She didn't know. That was the problem.

“That's never good.” 

“No,” she agreed. She didn't know what to do. “Any wise words?” 

“Bishop, do you understand the irony in all this, you asking me for marital advice?” Gibbs asked, and she could only laugh. It was stupid, wasn't it? Or was it right? “Well, he can't tell you the details. He can tell you how he feels. You make him talk to you.”

That sounded great. If only Jake _would_ talk to her. She didn't know that he would.

And she was afraid of what she might hear.

* * *

“I don't think I'm ever going to drink again. Or I shouldn't, though there is a part of me that wants to bury myself in a bottle and not come out again.”

Gibbs looked up from his boat, frowning. He wouldn't say that he hadn't expected a visitor, not twice in one night. He hadn't figured on this one in particular, but he'd expected it a while ago, not long after his return. Malloy had dragged his feet about it, and that did not sit well with Gibbs. It also bothered him that he'd showed up not that long after his wife left. Gibbs had thought that Malloy was out of town. Now he was here.

“Something I can do for you, Malloy?”

“Is putting me out of my misery an option?” Malloy asked, and Gibbs set down his tool, gut kicking into overdrive. “Because it might come to that. Hell, you might not even think you're doing me a favor.”

“What are you talking about?” Gibbs asked, frowning. Malloy better not be saying what Gibbs thought he was saying. “If this is about that assignment, if you went through with—”

“I think I did the unthinkable,” Malloy said, going to the workbench and leaning over it. “I... I don't know. I'm not... sure. We were talking, alone. It was... after the bombing...” 

“You knew about the bombing. That your hotel was in ruins.”

Malloy nodded, swallowing like he was trying not to vomit. “I was sure she'd killed someone. She'd let them die, at least, and I... I thought... I emptied the minibar because I was nervous. She... kissed me. That I think I remember, but I... I don't remember what happened after that. I must have—I couldn't have—but I think I did.”

“Damn it, Malloy,” Gibbs said, wanting to hit him. He'd known this was possible. He should never have been alone with that woman.

“I am not asking you to forgive me. I don't forgive myself.”

“Damn right you don't,” Gibbs said. This wasn't something Malloy could ignore, and he should have said something already. If not to Gibbs than to his wife, and Gibbs knew Bishop hadn't been told. “You knew a hell of a lot better.”

“Gibbs, she lured me out of the hotel not ten minutes before the bomb went off,” Malloy said. “I told them that, and it's proof enough for me. I know it's not—not legally. I know I couldn't make a case for it, but... She's the leak. I know she is.”

“They don't agree.”

Malloy shook his head. “It isn't enough. If that's all I have... why isn't it me? They told me unless I could get him more, they'd start looking at me. I'm not sure if... It could just be that they... They actually want me to continue seeing her. The thought of it turns my stomach. I don't want to be anywhere near that woman. I don't even think it would work... I asked her for the truth about what happened, and she got so angry...” 

Gibbs frowned. Something about that didn't sit right. “She angry because you forgot?”

“I... don't know. I tried... I had to know what I'd done, but I... I made a mistake. Again.” Malloy shuddered. “I can't pretend with her. I screwed everything up, and I don't even remember doing it.”

Gibbs wanted to smack him. “You shouldn't have talked to her.”

“She approached me. I... I didn't...” Malloy shook his head. “I didn't... I couldn't go on not knowing. Not that she answered, not really... I just... I can't pretend with Ellie. I'm not a good liar. I never have been. Ellie knows something's wrong. She's calling it PTSD now... the fact that I can't stand being touched thanks to Taylor... It has Ellie fooled, but it's all a lie. It's guilt. Not even survivor's guilt. I just... I don't know how this happened. I do, but I don't. Even if I was drunk... I just... This should never have happened.”

No one was going to argue that with him. That didn't mean they weren't going to hurt him, either. Gibbs wasn't sure he wouldn't, given what Malloy had just admitted.

“I'm not a detective. Not an investigator. Not trained. Why did I think I could do this? If I wanted to help on a case... I should have come to you, right? I am such an idiot,” Malloy said, looking like he wanted to smack his own head against the desk. “You... You would never have let me be involved in an investigation like this, would you?”

Gibbs shook his head. This was a mess, and a part of him didn't want any part of cleaning it up. Another part of him would be damned if he let some idiot at the NSA screw up his people. “You have to come clean to Bishop.”

Malloy sighed. “I... I was going to tell her as soon as I got back... The trip got canceled. Still.. I have been trying to... to tell her. I thought... They've been following me, and I thought if I tried to tell her that... that they'd see it as a sign of my guilt... And I am guilty, just not of treason.”

“Did you ask them what they'd do if you told her?”

Malloy laughed, a sort of bitter, near hysterical thing. “Oh, they said I should. They thought... They suggested that... if I told Ellie, it would make her believe I was on her side. I could... undo all the mistakes... convince her to open up to me about the treason. I don't...”

Gibbs grunted. That wasn't likely to work. It sounded a lot more like Malloy had already blown that end of the investigation. Trying to pursue that would just cause more problems. It was not going to catch that woman.

“Is this the way investigations like this are supposed to work?” Malloy asked, frowning. “I thought... It can't be right... If I'd known... I... I should never have agreed to this, but I said yes before I even knew what they wanted.”

“You are a patriot,” Gibbs said. “Not the smartest one, but no one can say you haven't been loyal to your agency.”

“Just not to my wife,” Malloy muttered, putting his head in his hands. “I don't know what to do. I can't do what the NSA wants. I can't let her get away with what she's done. And no matter what happens, I've lost Ellie. This was never supposed to happen.”

“But it did. Now you have to fix it.”

Malloy nodded. “I think I... I need to... I have to go.”

“Stop.” Gibbs shook his head. “You're not going anywhere.”

“I... I wasn't planning on hurting Ellie by going back to the apartment. I... I wasn't... I can't keep trying to... to pretend it's fine. She deserves better... I.... 

“You are a mess,” Gibbs said. “You might not have had anything to drink this time, but you're not fit to get behind the wheel. You sleep it off on my couch. We'll deal with the rest later.”

Malloy blinked. “You... aren't supposed to help me. I don't deserve it.”

“You screwed up. No denying that. That doesn't make you wrong about catching this woman. It has to be done. We're gonna make that happen.”

Still looking sick, Malloy barely managed a nod. “Okay.”

* * *

Jake opened the door to the apartment, pulling his suitcase inside. He needed to get a few more things, and he still didn't know where he was going to stay tonight. He knew it wouldn't—couldn't be here. Even if he hadn't told her, he couldn't go on like this, not when he shouldn't be here. He'd done something he couldn't forgive himself for, and he couldn't go on acting like he hadn't hurt Ellie, even if she didn't know.

He set his keys on the table next to the door, and then he saw her. Damn. 

“Ellie,” he swallowed, struggling to find words. She shouldn't be here. He should have been in and out. He knew he didn't belong where she was, and if he told her the truth, she wouldn't want him here. He had hoped to spare her that. “Why aren't you at work? Are you feeling okay?” 

“Not really,” she said. “We've got to talk.” 

He nodded. He knew they did, no denying that, though he wanted to do this a different way, somewhere that wasn't their home, somewhere that couldn't be poisoned by it forever. He crossed over to where she was sitting. “Okay. What is it?” 

“For months now, things have been different,” she said, and he sat down, acknowledging that with a nod. They were different, had been probably since the thing with Korkmaz' drive. Or maybe it was just the whole traitor at the NSA thing. Everything was wrong, but it was also different. “I know you've felt it too.” 

“It's my fault,” he said. It was. He knew it was. This mess with the assignment had pretty much ruined everything. “I'm in a difficult position and—”

Ellie held up a hand. “Just... let me finish. At first, I thought that you were having an affair. But... I know what's going on now, and I know that you're in trouble at work.” 

Jake winced. He knew that he was in trouble at work, but she wasn't wrong about the other part, which made him sick to his stomach. “Ellie—” 

“Yesterday I went to surprise you at lunch, but when I got there, I saw you being reprimanded by Taylor Matthews from Internal Affairs.” 

“Stop,” he said, knowing that he couldn't let her go on thinking that he was innocent when he wasn't. “I'm not in trouble at work. This is so hard...” 

Ellie reached for his hand, but he pulled away from her, not wanting to accept her comfort. He didn't deserve it. Didn't deserve her. 

“I've been trying to tell you, but I... I just... I don't know how,” he said, looking back at her. She gave him this look that said he could tell her anything, but she was wrong. He couldn't. Not without causing her so much pain... He didn't want to tell her, but he knew he couldn't lie about it any longer. “I... slept with Taylor.” 

Ellie stared at him, and he wished he could go back to before it happened, fix things, make it right, but he couldn't. He couldn't hurt himself and somehow repair things. He couldn't undo what he'd done. He didn't even know how he'd let it happen, but it had. He couldn't lie to her about it.

“At first it was...I guess it was... an office flirtation, that's all it was, but... then we went to Dubai.” He should never have gone. He had messed everything up, and he hated himself for it. “I'm not making excuses, but after the bombing—” 

“Shut up,” Ellie said, getting to her feet. “I don't want to hear anymore.” 

“Ellie,” he began, following after her. He wanted to help her, to make it hurt less, to make sure she would be okay, but he didn't know how. He caught her by the door, not wanting her to leave this upset. “Ellie, you don't deserve this... I hate myself for what I've done.” 

She looked at him, and he swore he'd never heard her in that much pain before. “Were you with her last night?”

Jake winced. He hadn't been, he'd gone to Gibbs, but what did it matter? He may as well have been there. He'd already ruined everything.

Ellie shook her head, pulling the door open and fleeing. He flinched when it slammed, knowing that could have—should have—been much worse.

He lowered his head and sighed. He had to fix this somehow—or at least, he needed to know that Ellie would be all right.

* * *

Ellie sat at her desk, staring out at nothing. She didn't know what to think, how to feel. She didn't want to believe it, hadn't wanted to since she saw him with Taylor, but he'd said it was true. How could he do that? How could Jake, of all people, do that to her?

She didn't know. She wasn't even sure how she'd made it back to NCIS without wrecking her truck. She wanted food, but she had no appetite. She wanted a drink, but she knew that she wasn't going to do that. She wasn't a big drinker, and she wouldn't give in to that now. Not over Jake.

He wasn't worth it.

She looked down at the band on her hand. She'd thought he was, once. She'd married him. He was supposed to be forever. How did forever do that to someone? Had they really fallen that far out of love that Jake could do this?

Did she—she'd sworn that she still loved him. Almost losing him in Dubai had told her that—only she'd lost him anyway, hadn't she? Dubai was when it started. That was what he'd said.

Ellie felt sick. How had this happened? Had she—did she push him away? Was this because of what he'd done with the drive? He'd actually sounded like he wanted to stay with her before he left. Was all of that a lie?

She didn't know. She couldn't be sure of anything right now.

“Hey, Bishop,” Tony said, coming around the partition. “You okay?” 

“No.” She shook her head, knowing that okay was not something she was and that it would be a long time before she was again. She thought she knew her husband. She trusted him. Now she knew she didn't know him at all. He'd betrayed her trust in the worst way. 

Tony and McGee stopped next to her desk, looking down at her. 

She forced herself to say it out loud. She didn't want to. Saying it made it real, and she still didn't want it to be real. “Jake's having an affair.” 

McGee grimaced. “You sure? How'd you find out?” 

She could have said she'd seen him with Taylor, but that wasn't really the truth. She'd denied it then, assumed it had to be some kind of internal affairs investigation. She had thought she could help him with it, find a way to clear him and get their lives back. Only she'd been wrong. He had cheated on her. “He told me.” 

“I'm sorry,” McGee told her. She nodded, though she didn't want sympathy. She wanted that bombing in Dubai to never have happened, for her husband to be the man she thought he was.

“DiNozzo's headed to Baltimore,” Gibbs said. “Go with him.” 

Ellie nodded, grabbing her things and welcoming the distraction. She needed something to focus on besides what Jake had done. She hoped it wasn't going to be anything where she might need to use her gun. She didn't know what she'd do if she had to shoot someone. A part of her wanted to, but that couldn't happen, either.

Tony guided her toward the elevator. “Jake is aware that you carry a gun for a living, right?”

* * *

Gibbs knew there would be fallout. There always was. Nothing ever happened without affecting anything else, though at least this time he hadn't lost one of his agents mid-case to a personal crisis. Bishop was still working, which had to help her some, but it didn't solve the larger problems.

A part of Gibbs wished he'd done what his instincts had said to do and kept Malloy from going on that trip in the first place. He hadn't wanted to be in the middle of it, but he did know Malloy. He knew the kind of man he was, and what the NSA asked of him was frankly ridiculous. Malloy was not an undercover operative, and he wouldn't fool anyone.

He must have fooled the woman a little, since something had happened between the two of them, but that didn't mean much. That was just a lot more trouble, since Malloy hadn't gotten any useful information in the process—he'd thrown away his marriage for nothing. Gibbs didn't doubt the man regretted it, but regrets didn't undo the poor decision he'd made.

Bishop knew, and what she chose to do about it was her decision alone. Still, she needed time to sort out how she felt and what to do with Malloy. Kicking him to the curb was still an option, and no one would blame her for doing it. Malloy was in the wrong.

“McGee,” DiNozzo said, shaking his head as he looked over at the elevator. His tone suggested that he almost didn't believe it himself. They should have expected it—this would not be the first time Malloy had come by NCIS when he couldn't reach his wife. “You won't believe this.”

McGee nodded, rising from his own desk. DiNozzo rose, leaving his desk to get in Malloy's face. “You have some big balls, coming here.”

“I've got to talk to Ellie,” Malloy said, sounding worried, which he should be, but that didn't give him a pass. “You know where she is? She's not answering my calls or my texts.” 

“Do you blame her?” McGee asked, shaking his head in disbelief. 

“It's not smart, coming here,” DiNozzo said. “I think you should leave.”

“Look,” Malloy said, a bit of desperation coming into his voice. “I get that you're upset, but she is my wife—”

“Then treat her like one,” Gibbs said, and Malloy looked at him. Gibbs didn't know why that should come as any sort of surprise. The man knew he'd screwed up—he'd admitted that last night. He couldn't actually believe anyone was going to make this easy on him. Drunk or not, what happened in Dubai should never have happened. “You should leave. I'll walk you out.”

“Think he's gonna punch him out?” DiNozzo asked. 

“Love to see it,” McGee said. 

“Come on, Gibbs, you know me,” Malloy said as they got close to the elevator. He seemed to think that Gibbs was going to offer him some sort of out, some kind of help, and that wasn't happening. Not now. “You need to understand—” 

“Understand what?” Gibbs demanded. “You cheating on Bishop?”

Malloy shook his head, still looking at him like he'd expected more. That was separate. Gibbs might help arrest the traitor at the NSA, but Malloy still had to deal with the consequences of what he'd done. He'd betrayed his wife's trust. That wasn't something any of them could take lightly. 

“I never wanted this to happen.”

“Get your head out of your ass, Jake,” Gibbs told him, pushing him into the elevator. He turned back to his team. “Back to work.”

* * *

Jake went back to the apartment. He'd only wanted to make sure that Ellie was okay, but her team hadn't let him get close, wouldn't tell him anything, and he didn't blame them for that. He knew that he had hurt Ellie. He hadn't meant to, and he'd thought somehow he could avoid it, but he'd done the last thing he wanted, and they were right to try and protect her. 

He should have done that himself.

He still didn't understand Gibbs, though. The man had said he had to tell Ellie, and he had. He'd also said that he'd help Jake catch Taylor—or whoever else was the traitor, Jake supposed, but Gibbs had shoved him out of the building.

He supposed he'd been fortunate to make it that far in the first place.

He didn't know what to do now.

He pushed the apartment door open, looking around. He had hoped Ellie would be here so he could tell her the rest of it, about the botched undercover assignment, that she wasn't wrong about internal affairs, but he didn't think that would be happening any time soon.

He went to the mantle, picking up the envelope resting against their picture.

_Jake,_

_I'm in a bad place. I hurt a lot. I'm going home to Oklahoma. Don't contact me. I'm not sure when I'll be back._

He had expected as much, but it still hurt. He knew that he had done this, he'd ruined everything. One bad decision after another, and his mistakes had pushed them here.

He sat down on the floor, putting his head in his hands. He'd lost her. He had known he would, but he still didn't want to believe it. He'd tried, they both had, to save their marriage, and now... He'd thrown it all away, and he couldn't even remember doing it.

He would never forgive himself for this.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ellie goes to Oklahoma with her family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part of the problem with writing this story also comes from the fact that I find watching the episodes where Ellie and Jake break up very difficult. I don't like the way the whole thing was written, and it's just painful all around. It wasn't necessarily badly acted, though I remember thinking Jamie Bamber's accent sounded weird when I saw it. Still, I have a lot of issues with this arc, and I couldn't force myself to do the detailed rewatchings I've done for other episode related fics. I just couldn't.
> 
> So I worked with a transcript, but I skipped over a lot of Blood Brothers. I am not big on holiday episodes anyway (I have a lot of reasons for that) and this one was worse because they were doing that "family is everything for the holidays" thing while breaking a family apart. 
> 
> I think I covered the relevant points, including the phone call with Gibbs that is discussed but never elaborated on (here I elaborate) and I'm not going to do more with Blood Brothers. I have to do a bit with Spinning Wheel and then I can wrap up the IA part of things and be all done, which... will be a relief because this whole plot of Jake cheating is so... I hate it. I really do, even if in this version it's not all he or anyone else thinks it was.

* * *

Ellie wasn't answering his calls or texts.

Jake hadn't expected anything different, but he was haunted by her words about a bad place. He had never wanted to put her in that position. He knew that he'd done something unforgivable, and he wasn't trying to ask her to do that. He just had to know that she hadn't hurt herself because of his stupidity. He was the one to blame. He should have been the one to be punished, if there was any to be had. Somehow, though, it all fell on her, and that was wrong.

He tried, one more time, using a text again.

_I know you're mad. Please just tell me you're okay, and I'll stop texting. I won't call. I just... I need to know you're okay._

He sent it and waited, trying not to be too impatient. He didn't dare try the house. If her family knew, he was a dead man. He sighed. He was willing to accept punishment, but he couldn't fix anything if he died, and if Taylor got away with what she'd done, then what he'd done was completely worthless. He couldn't let his mistake go that far. He couldn't lose his marriage and have her get away with treason.

He should have told Ellie before about the investigation, but he had messed that up, too. He had admitted what he'd done, but he hadn't told her about the rest of it. He had just needed to get the words out, and they came out wrong. All wrong.

His phone buzzed, and he looked down, hoping for a message from Ellie, but the message was from Sobek.

Damn it.

* * *

“I'm down an agent because of you,” Gibbs said when the call connected. “Whatever you're about to say had better be good.”

“You... contacted me, Gibbs,” Malloy said, sounding confused. “I mean, I know it's not really like you to text, but then it was short and to the point. Three words, one of them not fit to repeat. The other two were call me, so I did. If you didn't send that... who did?”

Gibbs looked down at his phone. He knew he hadn't sent it, but there were ways to send texts without having the phone, so he supposed it could have been anyone. “If you're lying about this so I will tell you where Bishop is—”

“I know that she's in Oklahoma. She would be at her parents' because she finds her brothers overprotective but also refuses to intrude on their lives and their families. She also hates it when they get in the middle of whatever problem we're having,” Malloy said. His logical delivery held plenty of pain, though, not that Gibbs didn't already know that Malloy regretted what had happened.

“I didn't send you any text.”

“I didn't figure you wanted to talk to me, but then maybe it was about Taylor and arresting her, which I thought you would still do even if you were mad at me,” Malloy said. “I spoke to Sobek not long ago, and I... Is it normal to just drop investigation into a suspect if they're not cleared? You wouldn't do that, would you?”

“No, I sure as hell wouldn't,” Gibbs said. “That what you're thinking they've done?”

“Sobek said something that made me think that he and Howard weren't interested in Taylor anymore, but when I asked him if they'd proved it wasn't her, he said no,” Malloy said. “I don't like this. And Ellie won't take my calls—”

“Why do you think that is, Malloy?”

“I know why it is. I'm just worried about her. I never wanted to hurt her. I knew... I knew that the rumors might, but I... I figured I'd end up dead, not having made this mistake that makes my skin crawl. I... I was a fool to think—but I never intended to cheat on Ellie. I never thought I would be capable of that. I... I just didn't factor in my lack of tolerance for alcohol.”

“You did seem to think it was higher than it was,” Gibbs said, his head starting to hurt. He didn't want to be involved in this, not in the damned middle, but there was still a chance Bishop could forgive him. This incident wasn't intentional, and the alcohol put things in a slightly different light. The thing went from outright betrayal to a complete lack of judgment, though again, it was up to her if she was willing to overlook that. Malloy should have known better. And Matthews was cold, damned cold, if she was going to be with a married man not that long after a bomb went off and killed their coworkers, a bomb that should have killed them. Even if she wasn't a traitor, that was just wrong.

Gibbs wanted her arrested. Or shot.

Maybe both.

He didn't have time for this. He had a dying lieutenant and a donor to find.

“Gibbs, she _is_ okay, isn't she? Nothing happened to her besides... besides what I did?”

“Malloy, damn it—”

“I can't change what I've done. I don't want to hurt her again, but if she won't tell me she's fine and never to talk to her again, all I've got is worry. And she doesn't deserve this. She shouldn't be suffering. I'm the one that... I'm the one that thought I was stronger than I was, the one who screwed it all up. I don't deserve to be forgiven, but I asked you before—about being there for her, and I need to know that someone is. I can't. I lost that right, and even if I hadn't, she doesn't want me. I hurt her too much. I...”

Gibbs shook his head. “You concentrate on what you can do to fix this mess you've made. You leave her alone and out of it.”

“Gibbs—”

He hung up and went back to his case.

* * *

“I'm gonna kick his ass.” 

Ellie laughed. It figured George would say that. Any one of her brothers would have volunteered for it, just like Tony and McGee had almost done when Jake tried to talk to her at NCIS. She didn't need protection. A part of her wondered if talking to Jake then might have been better. She'd left, and she didn't want to go back, but she did still have questions. She didn't understand how this had happened.

“Why is that funny?” George demanded. “I'm serious.” 

Ellie almost laughed again. It shouldn't be funny, and it actually wasn't, but then she could always bring up one thing to tease George. “Do you remember the last time you tried to fight one of my boyfriends? You ended up in the hospital with a broken nose.”

“Where I met a cute candy striper who I fell in love with and married,” George said, always enjoying the retelling of that story. Ellie used to like it, glad she'd helped her brother toward happiness, even if it was by accident. “One of the best days of my life.” 

“I don't think there's much hope for a happy ending in this circumstance,” Ellie admitted. She didn't know if there was anything left in her marriage to save. Maybe before he'd slept with another woman, but now? If Jake could do that, was it worth trying to go back? With all the problems they already had? 

“Bringing out the big guns,” George said, digging into a box. “1989 blackberry cordial.” 

“Wow, I can't believe that's still in there,” Ellie said. She could have sworn they drank all of it before, years ago. They should have. No way that was still the same bottle they'd hidden away when they were kids, but she would allow George to think he was fooling her. 

“It's just what the doctor ordered,” George said, holding out the bottle to her. She took a sip, confirming what she already knew—that was not the same cordial. “Are we gonna talk about the gold elephant in the room?”

She choked on the drink, frowning. 

He pointed to her hand. “You're still wearing your ring. Does that mean you want to try and work it out?” 

Ellie looked down at the band. “Marriage isn't something you just give up on. Those vows meant something to me.” 

“Hey, you weren't the one who broke them.” 

“Even when things were bad, I always thought that Jake and I would find our way through it,” Ellie said. She really had thought they would. Jake giving them Korkmaz' computer had seemed like a way to get things back on track, and she'd thought they actually were. That was why this stung so much, why it was so hard to believe. How did they go from Jake defying his own rules to give her what she'd asked for to this? 

“When JB and I are faced with challenges, that's when we lean on each other the most. We're stronger because of it,” George said, and Ellie nodded. She'd always envied the seeming ease of her brother's marriage. It was perfect, or so it had always seemed. “And that kind of love, can't exist without trust, Ell.”

Ellie didn't know how to answer that. Had all of her trust in Jake gone? She still didn't know what happened, and maybe if she had, if she'd let him tell her all of it, it would be. Or maybe it wouldn't be. She couldn't say. She didn't know.

“Eleanor?” Her mother called from downstairs. 

“We're trying to have a moment,” George said back, and she rolled her eyes. 

“There's a call for you on the house line,” her mother said, and Ellie almost winced, thinking it had to be Jake. “It's a Very Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo.” 

“Oh,” Ellie said, more relieved by that than she should have been, “duty calls.”

* * *

“I hope you'll join us for Thanksgiving, Gibbs,” Mrs. Bishop said, picking up a bowl from the table. She added the salad to her plate and put the bowl back down again. “My husband would love to meet you.” 

Strained, Bishop shook her head. “I'm sure he has to get back, Mom.” 

Mrs. Bishop just smiled. “Ellie's a lot like her father. They're very direct. They're both intellectuals, and they're reserved.” 

“And don't forget stubborn,” her brother added, making Bishop glare at both of them. Under other circumstances, Gibbs would probably just sit back and watch, amused as hell, but this wasn't the time for it. He had a dying marine, a possible traitor, a former friend, and one of his own agents to worry about. 

“You know, a perfect example was her fourth birthday,” Mrs. Bishop went on, almost like she wasn't aware that her daughter would like to harm her or maybe just crawl under the table and die. “She decided it was time to take those training wheels off her bike. So the training wheels came off.”

“Yeah, Ell barely made it down the driveway before she toppled over,” the brother said, looking like he wanted to laugh. “Thought for sure she was gonna cry, but she didn't.” 

“Oh, no. She got right back on the bike,” Mrs. Bishop said. “That's my daughter.”

The phone rang, and Bishop jumped up from the table. “I'll get it.” 

“Would you like some more chicken?” Mrs. Bishop asked. She stopped, turning to her son. “You okay?” 

“Don't mind if I do,” Gibbs said. 

“Hello?” Bishop asked into the phone. Her tone shifted immediately. “I told you not to call here. No, I'm not coming back for Thanksgiving. It's not my concern, Jake. Spend it wherever and with whomever you want.”

Mrs. Bishop sighed as Bishop hung up in anger. The brother shook his head, about to get up.

“That's it. I can't take this anymore.” 

“George,” Mrs. Bishop began. 

“No, Mom. Jake has the nerve to call this house after what he did, and that's the only thing you have to say to him?” George demanded of his sister. “Not me. I'm calling that weasel back and telling him off. Who does he think he is?” 

“George Russell Bishop, sit down,” his mother ordered. 

“Don't make me out to be the bad guy. I'm the only one acting normally here,” George said, frustrated. “She's my little sister, and if he thinks he can disrespect her like that—”

“Okay, enough,” Bishop broke in, losing her temper this time. “Just, stop it. Both of you. I don't need you fighting my battles. This is my life, my marriage, and it's my decision. So back off.” 

She left the room, no one stopping her. Mrs. Bishop turned to her son instead. “What is wrong with you?”

“Okay, my timing wasn't great—”

“You think?” Gibbs asked, and the other man grimaced. 

“Go cool off,” his mother advised. “I'm gonna go talk to her.” 

Gibbs' phone rang, and he excused himself to answer it. “Yeah. Gibbs.” 

“Boss, hey. I'm at the hospital. Alex Quinn's taken a turn for the worse. We're running out of time.”

* * *

“Going somewhere?” 

Ellie winced when she heard Gibbs' voice. She hadn't expected anyone to be waiting for her. Now she was caught. She couldn't do what she needed to do, which was get far away from here, away from everything and everyone that was bothering her. She turned back, grimacing. 

“Gibbs, uh... I was just going for a run. I need to clear my head.” 

“I think you've done enough running, Bishop.”

Ellie sighed. She didn't want to do this. Not with her boss. She knew it was complicated because he'd befriended Jake, but so far, that hadn't seemed to matter. He'd never interfered in their marriage before. 

“A lecture is the last thing I need right now.”

Gibbs studied her. “What do you need?” 

“For everyone to stop treating me like I'm this fragile thing that's about to break,” she said, and Gibbs laughed. She frowned. “What?” 

“How many times a week did you check on me after Iraq?” Gibbs countered, and she refused to count. Not all of that had been her—some of those visits were Jake's idea. That just made thinking about them worse. “You kept showing up, even after I said I was fine.” 

She shook her head. “That's different, Gibbs. You almost died. We were all worried.” 

“So is your family,” Gibbs told her, and she had to grimace again. She knew they were. She hated that they were. Hell, even Jake sounded worried, which made it worse. “They just want to make it better.” 

She sighed, sitting down next to Gibbs on the bench. “I've been so inundated with everyone's opinions on... how I should feel, and what I should do that I haven't been able to actually process it myself.” 

“You can't do that if you won't talk about it.” 

Ellie stared at him. This was not happening. She must be dreaming, and she actually wanted that. Maybe she'd wake up and find out that Jake had never cheated on her. “Wow. You are telling me to talk about my feelings? All right. Tell me, Gibbs, how-how have you processed getting shot? Who is it that you're opening up to?” 

“Dr. Taft,” Gibbs answered. She still stared, not sure she believed him. “I've been talking with him since the Sudan case. Everyone reaches a point, Bishop, even me. You just got to take the first step.” 

Ellie didn't know about that. The first step might mean that it was over, and if it was over, she didn't know what she would do. She could keep running. Running had been working. “What if I can't?”

Gibbs shrugged. “Rule number twenty-eight—'When you need help, ask.'”

* * *

“You asked her where you should go for Thanksgiving?”

Jake winced. Again, not his finest hour, but then nothing for him had been lately. “I was nervous. I didn't actually think I'd get to talk to her. I figured on being cussed out by her brothers—they hated me before this—and I panicked. I don't even know what I said. Then I tried to apologize, which made it worse. She was so angry...”

“You think?”

Jake sighed. “Why are you calling, Gibbs? You want to tell me not to call her again? I wasn't planning on it. I said I'd stop when I knew she was fine. I wasn't lying. She's fine. She hates me, and she should, but she's fine.”

Gibbs grunted. “You do have to talk to her. A decision needs to be made.”

“Which is entirely in her hands. I screwed up. I have to accept whatever she decides. I know that,” Jake said. He also didn't want to try and discuss that over the phone. He wasn't sure what would happen, but he could allow himself some foolish hope when she wasn't here to end it officially.

“What about Matthews?”

Jake shook his head. “I don't know. I haven't heard from her. That I'm actually grateful for. Sobek and Howard haven't said anything to me about the investigation. I don't know what's happening. I've just been trying to do my job.”

“No more fake texts?”

“Not so far. I... I guess I'm still waiting for more fallout. If I was in Oklahoma, Ellie's brothers would have come together to put me in the hospital. Tony and McGee haven't come, and I... I guess I'm surprised. A little worried, too.”

“Whatever happens to you is up to Bishop,” Gibbs told him, and Jake frowned. Did that actually mean that—as unlikely as it was—if Ellie forgave him, the others would, too? “This case should wrap up soon. I want information on Matthews waiting for me when I get back.”

“Gibbs, if I give you that, I am risking—”

“You want her caught or not, Malloy?”

Jake knew that he had to do this. He'd joked about being put out of his misery, and a part of him still wanted that, hating himself as much as he did for what he'd done to Ellie, but it was worse if it didn't even stop Taylor, if it was all for nothing.

“I want her caught. If nothing else, she needs to be stopped.”

“Then get me what I need to stop her.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ellie and Jake have their talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter was hard, almost impossible to do. Every time I thought about it, I got depressed. It didn't help that I thought about it and have another theory about why the show had Jake cheat. It was so that Bishop could exit the marriage and not be the "bad guy" even though in many ways, she seemed like the one who wanted out and not to fix things. That's in part because we only saw her half of things most of the time, but it's also one of the things I kept noticing when I watched the episodes. So we get to blame Jake because he's an evil cheater and Bishop looks innocent, whereas she might not have been, not so much.
> 
> It has been bothering me a lot, that idea of just "make Jake the bad guy." The writing is very uneven where this whole thing is concerned, and I think it was a disservice not just to Jake and Ellie, but to the rest of the team.
> 
> I mean... what is with the creeperness they included by having McGee hear the entire conversation of their breakup? It wasn't necessary. Even if we hadn't gotten a scene for it, which we did, we didn't need Tim there to witness it. It wasn't like his presence was comic relief. It wasn't funny. It was wrong. So many things about this are just... wrong. Wholly wrong.
> 
> So I skipped a lot of Spinning Wheel, only did the one major scene (which to my mind does not include McGee) and only used the transcript because I was not revisiting the train wreck of an episode as much as I like the story with Ducky's brother.

* * *

Jake forced himself to go forward into the morgue. He didn't miss the irony there. Something was likely to die today, and it just might be him. He didn't know if he'd survive Ellie's colleagues, and even if he did—would their marriage?

He saw the looks the others gave him, and he'd been given an escort when that was never necessary before. None of this was good. He knew it wouldn't be. Still, if Ellie would talk to him, then all of this discomfort was worth it.

“Hey,” Jake began after they were alone, feeling sick as he tried to get the words out. He had to tell Ellie about the undercover assignment, about how he'd screwed it up and how much trouble he was in now. “I'm sorry to ambush you at work like this, but we need to talk.”

“It's okay,” Ellie told him, and that almost made him hopeful in a way he knew that he had no right to be. “You're right. We do. I have had a lot of time to think and—”

“Actually, can I go first?” Jake interrupted, wincing a little as he did. He didn't want to cut her off, and he didn't want to alienate her, but there was still so much he had to say. He knew that he couldn't leave here without telling her about the treason. “There's something I really need to say.” 

“Yeah,” Ellie said, and her tone made him want to wince again. “I got that sense from the six thousand messages you left on my voicemail.” 

“Yeah, I know,” he said, still feeling sick. He shouldn't have called that much, especially after she'd asked him not to, but he'd had to try anyway. “I already apologized about a thousand times, but I would gladly do it a thousand more if I thought it would make any difference.” 

“Okay,” she agreed, surprising him. He didn't know what to think of that. Was this a good sign or a bad one? “Go.” 

He wasn't sure if she knew what she was saying. He _would_ do it, all thousand times. “I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sor—” 

She shook her head, backing away from him. “You're right. No. It's not helping.”

Jake didn't know why he'd thought it would. He was wrong. Every step of this, everything he'd done, it was wrong. He couldn't seem to make any of it right. “I'm sorry. My point is that what happened with Taylor isn't the problem—”

“Trust me, Jake,” Ellie told him, a definite edge to her voice, one he knew was anger. Anger and hurt, and he'd caused that. He still hated himself for that. “It's a problem.” 

“Yeah, no, that's not what—what I mean is that...” Jake stopped. He needed the right way to say this. He knew it went all the way back to her leaving the NSA, and he couldn't help thinking that was how he had to say it. If they hadn't started having problems, losing the ability to talk, would he even have considered trying an undercover assignment like that? He wasn't so sure he would have. He thought he'd have left it well alone. “It's also a symptom of something deeper. When we were at the NSA together, we were together. Happily in the bubble. Two peas in a pod.” 

“Right,” she said, still angry. 

“And then when you left, suddenly there was... there was a wall,” Jake said, remembering how it had felt. Every time he tried to find a way to share things with her, he couldn't. Not about his work. Not about half of what he knew. They seemed to have nothing in common despite their efforts. “And we could... we could barely talk to each other.” 

“Well, yeah, not without violating national security.” 

“And _that_ is the problem,” Jake said, starting to pace. She said it like she blamed him, and a part of him could—maybe even _did_ —blame her. She'd made the choice to leave the NSA and then blamed him for never telling her anything. Still, part of that blame was his. “I put national security first. I put the NSA before my wife. I will do whatever it takes to repair our marriage.”

He would. He wasn't lying. He wanted to fix this. He would do it. He would start with telling her about the undercover assignment, maybe ask for her help if she still wanted to give it, but he wasn't going to ask for anything she wouldn't give. He just wanted to make this right. 

“What if I'm not?” 

“What?” Jake felt that like a kick to the gut. He knew that he shouldn't have. He should have expected this. He had—but he just... he'd hoped. “Ellie, come on—”

“You're right,” Ellie said, her voice firm, and he knew that she was definitely ending their marriage. “Your affair isn't the problem. We... We weren't working.”

“No,” Jake protested, needing to change her mind about that, at least to where she'd listen to the rest of what he had to say. “Eleanor—” 

“Why did you tell me about the affair?”

Jake swallowed. Why would she ask that? Of course he'd had to tell her. He couldn't lie to her. That was almost as wrong as what he'd done. “What?” 

“I would never have found out,” Ellie said, and that made him sick all over again. “I think you wanted me to know.” 

“No.” Jake hadn't wanted that at all, but he'd had to do it. “It's not that—”

“It's over, Jake,” Ellie said, and it was, he knew it was. “It's been over for a long time. We are just saying it out loud now.”

Jake forced himself to nod, to accept it. She had ended it. He'd said he'd accept whatever she decided, and he would. It hurt, and everything in him wanted to beg her for another chance, but he knew he didn't deserve it. He wouldn't get it.

He let her walk away.

* * *

Ellie didn't know what to think or feel when Jake came into that room. She'd known that he would find a way to see her after she returned to DC. That was inevitable. She knew they would meet again. She knew that they would talk. They had to. She knew that.

She still wasn't prepared for it. She wanted more time—and she didn't. She wasn't sure how to handle this, but she had to confront it. She had to know, and she had a decision to make.

“Hey,” Jake began, looking uncomfortable as he did. “I'm sorry to ambush you at work like this, but we need to talk.”

“It's okay,” Ellie told him, almost wincing at her own choice of words. She didn't know that she could do this, even if she had told herself that she was going to have this out with him, finally. “You're right. We do. I have had a lot of time to think and—”

“Actually, can I go first?” Jake interrupted. She swallowed, tempted to let him. Maybe that would be easier. She didn't know if she should or if she should say what she needed to, since she wasn't sure she could later. Still, she had to know what he was going to tell her. Maybe he just wanted it over, and that was it. They'd be done. “There's something I really need to say.” 

“Yeah, I got that sense from the six thousand messages you left on my voicemail.” 

Jake winced. “Yeah, I know. I already apologized about a thousand times, but I would gladly do it a thousand more if I thought it would make any difference.” 

“Okay,” she agreed. He should apologize, and not just over the phone, to her voicemail with messages she didn't even listen to before deleting or in texts. She deserved to hear it, and in person so that she knew if he was sincere. “Go.” 

“I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sor—” 

She stepped back, shaking her head. “You're right. No. It's not helping.” 

Jake seemed disappointed, but she didn't know what he really expected. Those words were not enough. Not by a longshot. “I'm sorry. My point is that what happened with Taylor isn't the problem—”

“Trust me, Jake,” Ellie told him, trying to restrain herself. She could have smacked him for that. “It's a problem.” 

“Yeah, no, that's not what—what I mean is that...” Jake stopped. He seemed to be trying to gather his thoughts. “It's also a symptom of something deeper. When we were at the NSA together, we were together. Happily in the bubble. Two peas in a pod.” 

“Right,” she said, not sure if he was about to blame this on her job. If he did, she would smack him. He did not get to use that as an excuse. 

“And then when you left, suddenly there was... there was a wall,” Jake said, and Ellie couldn't deny it. She'd felt that, too. “And we could... we could barely talk to each other.” 

“Well, yeah, not without violating national security.” 

“And _that_ is the problem,” Jake said, shaking his head as he started to pace. “I put national security first. I put the NSA before my wife. I will do whatever it takes to repair our marriage.”

He would. That she believed. He actually would do whatever he had to fix this, and she could let him. She could let him try and make this better, but she didn't know that it would change anything. She didn't think this could be fixed. “What if I'm not?” 

“What?” Jake sounded sick when he heard her say that. “Ellie, come on—”

“You're right,” Ellie insisted, getting more sure of her decision as she spoke. She knew what she had to do. “Your affair isn't the problem. We... We weren't working.”

“No,” Jake protested, reaching for her. She pulled away. “Eleanor—”

“Why did you tell me about the affair?”

“What?” 

“I would never have found out,” Ellie said. She'd given him an out. He could have told her that it was an investigation. He could have lied and saved their marriage there, but he hadn't. “I think you wanted me to know.” 

He shook his head. “No. It's not that—”

“It's over, Jake,” Ellie said, feeling sick and numb at the same time. “It's been over for a long time. We are just saying it out loud now.”

* * *

Gibbs turned on the light, heading down the stairs. He needed to work on his boat. This case, while having what was almost a happy ending—Ducky's brother was alive—was still one where they were way too late. Ducky's brother didn't remember everything, and people _had_ died. That was not the most satisfying outcome.

Neither was what he was seeing on his floor.

“Don't recall inviting you, Malloy.”

“Last time you told me not to leave because I was in no state to drive,” Malloy said. “Definitely not in any state to drive.”

“I can see that,” Gibbs said. It was a wonder he couldn't smell it from here. It looked like Malloy had one bottle completely empty already, and the other one was most of the way gone. “Not really sure why you thought you could get drunk here. There are motels for that. Believe me, I know.”

Malloy nodded. “I know. I... I... I have somewhere to stay. I bet they all think I'm with Taylor. Even the damned NSA.”

Gibbs shrugged. He did think that was what most of his team believed, and they all believed she was stupid to take him after Bishop rejected him. That still didn't explain why Malloy was here. “You're here, though. Not at your place.”

“I had most of my stuff packed before Ellie came home. Moving what I had to take was... easy. I had it all done for her before she got home. I... I can't do much for her, but I could do that,” Malloy whispered. He ran a hand over his face. “I knew... I knew, but I still hoped... It's all over.”

“Malloy—”

“Except it isn't,” Malloy said, lowering his head. “Taylor's still free.”

“You were supposed to change that,” Gibbs reminded him, going over to the other man's side. He knelt next to him. “I thought you said you were going to give me what you had on her.”

Malloy held up a flash drive. “You were gone, too, you know. I... I couldn't do this earlier. I meant to, but I couldn't. I didn't... After Ellie said it was over... I had to leave. I couldn't... I know that people think I wanted this, but I didn't. I... I messed up. I never... I have to accept it because I was the one that made the mistake.”

“This looks a lot like acceptance.”

“Screw you, Gibbs,” Malloy said, trying to get up. “You all think—you know, it doesn't even matter. I can be upset that my marriage is over. Doesn't matter what I did. Or didn't do. I... I have that right. I have the right to hate myself so much... I swear, if it wasn't for getting Taylor caught and arrested—”

“Don't finish that.”

“I'm not like you. Not that strong. I ruined the best thing I ever had. And it's gone... all gone. What the hell would I have left to stay for?”

“More than you think.”

Malloy snorted. “Gibbs, you hate me. Ellie hates me. Everyone hates me. _I_ hate me.”

“And you're drunk. You're going to go upstairs, sleep this off, and we will deal with it in the morning.”

“Yeah, you said that before,” Malloy muttered. “That worked out so well for me last time.”

“Just be glad I didn't decide to use one of those tools over there on you.”

“You'd be doing me a favor.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The fallout of the break up continues, as does the investigation into the treason.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I admit, I don't really know how the divorce part went down. I wasn't really willing to watch after I heard the show went this direction, and so this may divert from canon some, but this is still just a close walk next to it, after all. Canon has the affair a deliberate, malicious choice, whereas this... it wasn't much of a choice.
> 
> All I knew I was doing with this chapter was the interview with Jake. It was hard to get past that as my only scene.

* * *

Ellie opened the door to the apartment, taking another breath before stepping inside. She knew that she couldn't afford this place on her own, so she'd have to find somewhere else, but she and Jake hadn't actually discussed who kept the apartment. He could even be here, since she hadn't said she wanted it and that he shouldn't be there.  
She'd said it was over, and that was it.

She grimaced. She knew that it wasn't, not completely, and worse, she'd avoided any of the logistical discussions they had to have. The apartment was only one of the things she should have talked to him about before now.

She shook her head, shutting the door behind her. She crossed over to the kitchen, turning on the light and going to the refrigerator. She was about to open it when she saw the envelope taped to the freezer.

She swallowed, yanking it down. She wasn't sure when Jake had left it for her, and a part of her didn't even want to look at it. If it was another apology, it was already too late.  
It would irritate her, though, knowing it was here and not reading it. Who cared if it was another apology? She could handle that.

She ripped the envelope open, pulling out the paper.

_Ellie,_

_I know we didn't discuss what to do with the apartment or any of our things. I took only what I know is mine alone. I don't know if you want any of the rest of it. I guess that we can discuss later. I was just hoping to make this easier for you. You don't have to see me again._

_I will pay my half of the rent until the lease is up. You don't have to feel any pressure to move, not until you're ready. If you need anything, let me know._

He'd scribbled out several things and rewritten the note a couple times. She figured if she looked in the trash, she'd find more attempts. He'd even scratched out his usual closing—twice, since he'd actually written the pumpkin pie line before trying to do it with his name but he'd signed with love, too, and that actually hurt.

He shouldn't be considerate. He was the jerk. He'd cheated. He wanted out, and it was over. Done. They were done.

Ellie sat down on the floor, closing her eyes as she tried to stop herself from crying.

* * *

Gibbs sat down at his desk, putting the flash drive into his computer and waiting for it to come up on the screen. He would rather have had paper files or made one of his agents do this, but he could always get them involved later if it was necessary. He needed to see this for himself, and just about any of them might have seen the photograph from Dubai with Jake in the car with this woman. They wouldn't understand the need to look into her.

If Matthews was a traitor, she had to be stopped. That shouldn't be NCIS' problem, but then Gibbs found that his team was the only one capable of doing things the other agencies thought they were handling. This investigation he knew was botched just by talking to Malloy. Either whoever was running it was a complete idiot, or they were involved in Matthews' treason. Maybe both.

He started reading over the details of Matthews' early life. Like Malloy, she came from a set of affluent parents. Not quite in the same income bracket, but high enough. Much higher than Bishop's. Matthews was an only child. Her parents owed a business in New York. She'd gone to college at Yale, got high marks in her classes.

She joined the NSA shortly after college, like Malloy and Bishop. The difference was that both of their positions made sense. Her degree didn't line up with her job.

Gibbs frowned. He didn't like this. Had Matthews intended the treason all along? Or was she just corrupted along the way?

He should have Ducky analyze this, build a psychological profile from the file. If they knew what Matthews' motive was, maybe the treason would be clear. Malloy was certain of it, but Malloy lacked the background his wife had, that Gibbs and the others had.

Still, there wasn't anything here that was going to prove treason. That was going to have to come from somewhere else.

* * *

“Tell us.”

Abby rolled her eyes. “Seriously? You're down here for gossip about Bishop?”

Tony shrugged, and she fixed him with a glare. McGee winced and shook his head. “We're not actually here about gossip. Yes, we are worried about her, even if she seemed to take the whole break up thing rather well.”

Abby frowned. She didn't know that she'd say Bishop took it well. Abby was still friends with many of the men she'd been with, but that wasn't for everyone. In this case, Bishop's husband had cheated on her. He'd taken cute and adorable and made it diabolical and cruel, betraying her trust in the worst way. She'd actually insisted he wasn't cheating, and that made Abby so mad she wanted go hurt Jake in her video game again.

“What McGee is trying to say and failing to do is that you know Bishop better than we do,” Tony told her. “Is she really okay or is this the fake sort of okay we all use sometimes?”

Abby sighed. “Well, she's still bummed, and I can tell she is. She started telling me a story about the two of them, and in the middle of it she just stopped, choked up, and changed the subject. It's like... it doesn't hit her and then it does. Jake was supposed to be forever. Even now that he's not, they have a lot of past, and that doesn't just disappear.”

“So we should still be keeping an eye on her and making sure that Jake doesn't show himself anywhere near her.”

Abby shook her head. “That I think is covered. Bishop said Jake had already taken his stuff from the apartment so she wouldn't have to see him and he hasn't asked her for anything since she told him it was over.”

“They're actually having a... nice divorce?” Tony asked, frowning. “How is that even possible? My dad's marriages...”

“Were different,” McGee said, shaking his head. “Did... Did Bishop actually talk to you about the divorce?”

Abby folded her arms over her chest. “Guys—”

“We're looking out for her. As a friend and a teammate,” McGee insisted. “We just want to make sure there are no unpleasant surprises.”

“Like him having more than one mistress or something.”

Abby shook her head. “Bishop has a lawyer. That's all I know. Now both of you out of my lab. You have work to do.”

* * *

Ellie heard her phone ring, and she stopped on her way into NCIS, frowning. She hadn't recognized the ring tone, which generally meant a stranger, and she hated to stop for an advertiser or telemarketer. When she looked at the screen, though, it was her lawyer. She winced, accepting the call.

“Bishop.”

“Morning, Ms. Bishop,” Drew said. “I believe I have some good news for you.”

Ellie frowned. She didn't understand how any of this could be considered good. She knew that so far the divorce had been somewhat simple, but she didn't know that it would stay that way. Lawyers always complicated things, or so she was told. She'd never thought that about Jake, not before NCIS or finding out he cheated on her.

“What news?”

“It seems your husband—soon to be ex-husband—has decided not to get counsel. He said to give him your terms and he would sign the papers when they were ready.”

She put a hand to her head, feeling sick. “Jake's not contesting it—not asking for anything?”

“I still maintain that you're entitled to a lot more considering the assets—”

“That's Jake's family's money, not his, and this was never about that,” Ellie said. She wasn't going to try and get her hands on anything from Jake's family. She knew there was a trust set up for his future children, but that wasn't something she had to think about anymore because she wasn't going to be having his kids.

“I'll have the papers ready to—”

“Don't rush,” Ellie said, hanging up. As much as she wanted it over so she could start moving on with her life, she also didn't feel right about this. Jake not fighting for his half of what they'd had, especially since a lot of it was his, that didn't sit well with her.

Damn it, she probably had to talk to him before they signed the papers.

* * *

“Tell us what happened after the bombing in Dubai.”

“I already told you,” Jake said, shaking his head. He tried to lift his hands up from the table. “Is this really necessary? It's not like I didn't understand the threats or that I didn't try to help you. I understand what you're accusing me of.”

“You sure about that?” Howard asked, leaning over the table. “You haven't said anything to help your case.”

“Even with the patriot act, I'm entitled to an attorney. I don't have to answer anything without proper representation,” Jake said, though he doubted that was going to get through to anyone. He was accused of treason, and he knew that even if they were still supposed to, the normal rules didn't apply here. “If you're going to keep asking me questions, I want a lawyer.”

“You are a lawyer.”

Jake glared at the other man. “That doesn't make this right, and you know it. I've told you everything I know. Repeatedly.”

“Then do it again.”

Jake sighed. He didn't know what, if anything, was going to get him out of this, but he knew he wanted his freedom. He had to prove he wasn't the traitor. “I didn't know anything about any treason or any leak until you two approached me. You suggested I was in a unique position to help your investigation, and I fell for it. I agreed to help. I thought I was doing the right thing. Then you told me you wanted me to encourage Taylor to think we had a relationship, and I told you that wasn't going to work. Several times.”

“You approached her afterward.”

“No, I didn't,” Jake insisted. He hadn't gone after Taylor. He had been too nervous to talk to her when he knew she was suspected of treason. He figured he'd give himself away. “She spoke to me, somehow missed how panicked I was, and you thought it was a great success. That is why you sent me to Dubai, isn't it? I've never had to go there before, and that conference had nothing to do with my realm of expertise, but no, I get sent and so does she.”

“Malloy—”

“I want some water,” Jake said. “It's been hours, and you haven't given me anything. You won't give me a lawyer, so you had better get some water, and don't think that I won't—”

“You're under suspicion of being a traitor.”

“I know that. Do you think I'm so stupid I somehow missed that? I'm handcuffed to the damned table. I know you suspect me.”

“Then tell us what we need to know to help you.”

Jake snorted. “Help me? Since when was this ever about that? Clearly you didn't care, or you wouldn't have picked the angle you did to get me close to your suspect. Both of you have to be divorced, don't you? I wasn't. Not before you came into my lives, but you managed to do it. Ellie and I were finally making progress in fixing our issues, and then this assignment happens, and everything is gone. My wife, my home, my life...”

“After the bombing in Dubai,” Sobek said, trying to get control of the conversation. “What happened then?”

“My cellphone wasn't working. Taylor said hers wasn't, either. She suggested a landline at the hotel. I think I was still in shock about the bombing. It feels so... fuzzy,” Jake admitted. He knew that it shouldn't be so hazy, but he couldn't say he was thinking clearly, either. “We were alone. I thought she had caused the bombing somehow. I was afraid. I thought I was going to panic. I had something to drink. Then another. I don't remember anything after that.”

“A couple drinks and conveniently, you have no memory.”

“I wouldn't call it convenient,” Jake muttered, lifting his cuffed hands. “I've tried to remember, but I don't. I asked Taylor about it, but she didn't actually answer me.”

“That's interesting,” Howard said. “Because not only does Agent Matthews remember your encounter in that hotel room, she says you initiated things.”

“What?” Jake winced. “I... Maybe a drunken comment that shouldn't have come out the way it did, but nothing else. Not that.”

“I thought you didn't remember,” Howard said. “Now you're sure you didn't?”

“I... No. It just doesn't seem like me,” Jake said. “Why do you even care about that? If it happened—I think it did but I didn't intend to or want to—”

“Matthews says you're the traitor. That you seduced her so that she wouldn't investigate her.”

Jake stared at them. He didn't believe this. “You... You can't believe that. I didn't—I would never—I mean—she's lying. She has to be.”

“She can prove her part of the story.”

“No. That's not possible because we didn't—”

“She's pregnant. And the child is yours.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The two investigations progress, though not by much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Admittedly, I found a better fix for season thirteen just recently, but I want to wrap this up. I hate leaving stories unfinished. I've failed on that score many times, but I'm hoping that this won't be one of them just so it is... out of the system completely. A little more and this unpleasant plot line will be done.

* * *

“Malloy.”

Jake jerked at the sound of his name, not sure where his mind had been a minute ago. He wasn't sure he wanted to think about it. So far he'd only endured a few hours in interrogation. That wasn't half as bad as it could have been, and he knew it. He didn't know how he was going to avoid that, not without Gibbs' help, and while it seemed he was getting it, he wasn't sure he should have it.

Even if Abby was right, if he had been drugged, that didn't make what he'd done any better.

He shuddered. Taylor couldn't actually be pregnant, could she?

“Please don't puke in my lab, Jake,” Abby said, and he looked over at her. She put a hand on his arm. “You really looked like you were going to be sick there for a minute. Like that time in that class that you—”

“I remember,” Jake said. “Don't... I'm trying not to. It's just... I felt sick before, at the thought of her touching me, but this....”

Abby twisted her lip. “Well, I don't actually want to be the one to say it, but—well, you know... as long as you don't remember what happened, maybe nothing did. Maybe she just took your clothes or something to make you think that's what happened. Maybe you actually didn't do it.”

Abby looked hopeful, and Jake hated himself for what he was about to say.

“She's pregnant.”

Abby stared at him. “What?”

“That's what the agents told me. That's her proof that I'm the one lying. She has proof we had an affair,” Jake said, shuddering. “I... I was leaving. I'm not sure why I haven't—”

“Stop,” Gibbs ordered, and Jake looked at him. “You're in no state to leave. You're coming with me to see Ducky. Abby, see if you can find anything on Matthews that connects her to the drugs or the treason.”

“Will do,” Abby said. She frowned again, and then she came over and gave Jake a hug. He tensed, but she didn't let go. “I'm sorry. I wished some very evil things on you, and you didn't deserve any of them.”

“I don't know. I put myself in that position and—”

“Jake, no one deserves that. Well, maybe sometimes I think people who prey on kids, but that's not the same thing,” Abby said, touching his cheek. “What she did to you was wrong.”

Jake shook his head. “If I'd only been drunk—”

“Does Bishop know about any of this?”

Jake shook his head. “No. I... I was going to tell her about the undercover assignment, but she said it was over, so I just... let it go. It... I had to. I screwed up, and I had to accept what she said.”

Abby snorted. “Okay, you really are an idiot, but we're going to make this right somehow.”

“Nothing can make this right, Abby.”

* * *

“Duck, you have a chance to look over that file I gave you?”

Ducky looked up with a frown as Jethro entered the room. He was only beginning his work on Lieutenant Harbor, and it was too soon to tell him anything about her. He could not yet be certain how she died, and that was the puzzle he was here to understand.

“Jethro, I am afraid I have only begun to—”

“Not Harbor,” Jethro interrupted, turning to drag a reluctant companion into the room. “Need to know more about Taylor Matthews.”

“Gibbs, please,” Jakob said, looking more than a little worse for wear, “I cannot stay in here. Not even for a minute. I think I'm going to—”

“Don't,” Gibbs ordered, which was rather foolish given that it was unlikely the other man would be able to control his gag reflex, especially in this room. Death was not something most people knew how to accept, and few were comfortable in its presence. “You need help, remember?”

“I know that, but Ducky is very obviously busy, and I don't think he'd like it if I threw up all over his lab.”

“Indeed not,” Ducky said. “Have a seat outside, and I will attend to you in a minute.”

Jakob nodded, making a quick escape out of the door. Jethro gave him a look, and Ducky shrugged. He did not want a mess in his lab, and he saw no reason to push Jakob to that point regardless of the ire all felt about his actions. Elanor had not deserved what he'd done, but forcing him to remain with a dead body would only serve to punish Palmer at this point, and that Ducky did not need.

Removing his gloves, Ducky looked at Jethro. “Would you like to explain to me why this matter is taking precedence over a murder? It is most unlike you to—”

“Malloy's being framed for treason,” Gibbs said. “By at least one high ranking member of the NSA. I won't let them get away with that. Won't let Harbor's killer get away, either, but Malloy doesn't have a lot of time. Either they have enough to lock him up, or they'll finish the frame with his suicide.”

Ducky looked at the door. “Do we believe that they would take that measure? And that it would not be seen through?”

“His behavior's been erratic, his marriage just failed, and it would seem the woman who framed him drugged him to get a child out of this mess. So yeah, I think they'd believe he took his own life. Some on my team might even have bought it.”

Ducky grimaced. “Yet Jakob is not suicidal, is he?”

“Not so sure about that. He blames himself for the whole thing, and he made a lot of stupid mistakes, so it's hard to say he wasn't at least in part at fault for this, but at the same time, he's not a traitor. He actually got into this thinking he was doing the right thing, helping to catch a criminal. He's a sucker, and he's already paid for it.”

“In more ways than I think anyone realizes,” Ducky said. He knew that many people still believed it impossible for a man to have been the victim of such a crime, even less so at the hands of a woman, and it was not something easy for the man to accept, either, as most felt they should have been strong enough to prevent it. The culture around the act itself was a problem, and it was not something that would easily be overturned. More than that, though, this had apparently resulted in a child, and that raised even more issues than the initial act.

Jethro glanced toward the door. “I should have stopped him. He told me he was doing this, and I told him to stop it, but I didn't make him stop it. I could have.”

“Everyone has free will, Jethro. We have to make our own decisions and mistakes. In this case, the consequences have been rather... painful, and not just for Jakob, as it has impacted Elanor as well as the rest of this team.”

Jethro grunted. “This should never have happened.”

“That may well be true, but you've never been the sort to wallow in grief or self-recrimination. You use anger to find justice, and this will be no different.”

“Look him over, Duck. He was interrogated. Not sure if they did anything else to him, but he was there long enough to develop bruises on his wrists, and we already know he's not in his right mind,” Gibbs told him. “And I need that profile on Matthews. I need a way to stop her.”

“I will get you it as soon as possible,” Ducky assured him. “First, though, I believe I should see to my living patient.”

* * *

“Any luck getting Harbor's service record?” Tony asked, hovering behind Tim's desk. He wanted to swat the other man away, but he knew that wasn't going to work very well. Tony wasn't the kind of man that allowed himself to be put off by much of anything.

“Not yet,” Tim said. “I'm surprised you're not pushing more on the other... thing.”

Tony snorted, looking over at Bishop. She'd been staring off into space at her desk for a while now, ever since the aborted meeting that Jake had interrupted. He was downstairs somewhere, which had to be eating at her, but then the whole situation was messed up, and none of them were really sure why Gibbs was taking Jake's side in this, especially after he'd reportedly yelled at the man over the phone.

“You know you can say it, McHesitant,” Tony told him. “I doubt Bishop would hear you even if you shouted. She's totally in Bishop-zone, and not in a good or food related way, but in a bad way.”

“All the more reason why we shouldn't talk about her like she's not here.”

“I wasn't,” Tony said. “You were. I'm trying to work our case. You're sitting there obsessing over other things when I'm trying to get something accomplished. I talked to Janet Fisher, the person Harbor made her last call to, but you haven't done anything. You know, that offends me. It really does.”

Tim rolled his eyes. It was more like Tony to be prying into this whole mess with Jake, and it wasn't like they weren't all curious. Tim hadn't even been doing anything about that, though. He'd been working through the appropriate channels to get the files, but since their clearance level was too low, they weren't being given them. That would probably take Gibbs, but Gibbs was off on his own side mission.

With Jake.

That still made no sense.

“What did Fisher tell you?” Tim asked, trying to focus again. He didn't need to worry about what Gibbs was doing. Whatever it was, Gibbs would handle it, and none of them really wanted to be in the middle of Bishop's failing marriage.

“That she and Harbor talked about nothing important, and she has no idea how Harbor ended up dead,” Tony answered. “She seemed upset, started crying. Still a little unsure of her, but since I don't have a good reason to suspect her yet, I'll reserve judgment for later. Again—how is that service record coming?”

“We're going to need Gibbs or someone else with his level of clearance to get access to it.”

“Good luck with that. Gibbs is off in personal mission land, and he's not taking us with him,” Tony said. “This case is ours now, and we know what we have to do.”

“I am not hacking the file,” Tim said. He rose from his desk. “I'm going to go see if Director Vance will get this opened for us.”

“Very well, Tiny Tim,” Tony said. “I will look deeper into our Ms. Fisher.”

* * *

Gibbs had a feeling that he would find NSA agents waiting for Malloy outside the building. He didn't know if they'd come inside looking for him—probably not, since what they were doing was borderline at best and more likely illegal. Even stretching the patriot act, torturing Malloy wasn't something they'd want anyone to know they'd done, and if they had decided to fake Malloy's suicide, then they wouldn't want anyone to see them before they could set the stage.

Malloy was not allowed to leave. That posed a problem, though. Gibbs could leave the investigation into Lieutenant Harbor's death in his team's hands, but that didn't give him the freedom to find anyone or look into Matthews or the other agents. He needed more hands, more people. Someone had to watch Malloy—Ducky could for a while, but he had an autopsy to perform and a profile to build—and Abby had analysis to do. That didn't leave Gibbs with many options.

He took out his phone, flipping it open. He hit the button and waited for the call to connect. “Tobias. I need a favor.”

“I'd say you'd exhausted all of them, but then you did pull me out of a very dark place, so I suppose I still owe you.”

“Damn right you do,” Gibbs told him. “I need information on some NSA agents.”

“This isn't about Bishop's husband, is it? I heard a rumor that she and—”

“It's about treason. Three high level agents could be involved,” Gibbs said, getting a whistle out of Fornell. “I need you to keep this quiet, but I also need everything you can get me.”

“What about your team?”

“They're busy. Got a murder they're handling,” Gibbs answered. He knew that the team could cover it, as much as he wanted to find Harbor's killer himself. He couldn't be everywhere, and he needed to deal with this mess Malloy was in—one Gibbs could have prevented.

“Anything else?”

“Have a feeling we're going to need to set a trap.”

“Sounds like fun.”


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the end, Jake was always bait, one way or another.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I think after this there's just a wrap up, and I will be glad to have moved past this particular fic, as it hurt in many ways to do. A part of me wanted to throw it out for another course, and I still sometimes think I should have, but I had started down a path and saw it through, whether I should have or not.

* * *

“You planning on sitting there all day?”

Jake didn't bother looking up. “I got the impression that I wasn't supposed to move. Don't really see the point in it. Ducky did look me over—I'm fine. Physically. Maybe a little dehydrated and tired, but not anything to worry anyone about. Not that they would worry. They wouldn't.”

Gibbs grunted. “Don't make me get down there, Malloy. If I have to pick you up or smack any kind of sense into you—”

“We're not actually going to be able to stop her, are we?” Jake didn't know that there was much of a way out of this mess. He fit in the frame so perfectly, all because of his own stupidity, and he didn't know that he should find that escape. He didn't deserve a way out.

“You think we're going to let her get away with this?”

Jake sighed. “It feels like it's too late. I... I should have come to you and asked for help back in the beginning. I did, just... not the right kind of help. If I'd given you everything on Taylor, if we'd watched her then...”

“You can't change that now.”

“I know. I just... Gibbs, she... If Howard and Sobek aren't in on it... Then... She's really pregnant. She wouldn't claim that if she couldn't prove it. I...”

Gibbs put a hand on his head. “You need to get off the floor.”

“I...” Jake shook his head. He knew it was stupid, but this felt like the right place to be. “I'm not saying that you should do this all alone, but I don't know how I can help. I don't—everything is already a mess because of me, and I can't see how to fix it.”

“You're too close to it. And drowning in guilt.”

“I _am_ guilty.”

Gibbs knelt next to him. “Malloy, if you were talking to someone else, someone who'd gone somewhere for a drink and woke up the way you did, would you be blaming them? If Bishop told you this had happened, would you blame her?”

“That's different,” Jake said, turning away from him. “We don't know that I was drugged at all, and no, I wouldn't blame Ellie because I trust her and I know... I know she wouldn't cheat, and if she said she was... then she was. I'd believe her.”

“And you'd forgive her.”

“Yes.”

“Then stop being a damned hypocrite. And get off the floor,” Gibbs ordered, straightening up again. “We have work to do, and I'm going to need you to do it.”

“That is such a bad idea,” Jake muttered, forcing himself up and leaning against the wall. He took a breath before letting it out again, trying to get himself back together. He wasn't sure he'd been at all in control since this thing started.

“I'm not asking you to go undercover again,” Gibbs said, and Jake snorted. That would have been a disaster, pure and simple, but Gibbs already knew that. Jake wasn't cut out for this kind of work. He didn't know that he was cut out for any kind of work now. If he managed to clear his name, he didn't know what he'd do for a living after this. He couldn't think about that, though, because it didn't matter.

As long as Taylor was free and he was facing treason charges, he couldn't think about anything else. He couldn't focus.

Well, not unless he started thinking about Ellie. Then he focused on something, but the wrong thing again.

“The team may still be upstairs.”

“I'm not afraid of them,” Jake said. “I would avoid them if I could because I promised Ellie, but that's not the same thing. I just... I caused her enough pain.”

Gibbs pushed the button for the elevator. “She doesn't even know about the investigation. Didn't, not before you showed up today.”

“It didn't matter,” Jake said. “It still doesn't excuse what I did.”

Gibbs pushed him into the elevator. “We have to have that discussion again?”

“I just... There was no point in telling her the details when it... that wasn't even what broke the marriage. The... we couldn't talk. And that, I think... that was more the nail than my mistakes. I didn't tell her... when it mattered. Now... It really doesn't. She doesn't need more reminders or conflict. I just... I don't trust anyone at the NSA. And I want the right traitor caught. That meant coming to you, or I wouldn't be here.”

“Don't make this easy for them,” Gibbs said. “Half the reason you're in this mess is because you're so willing to take the blame.”

Jake frowned. “I... I accept the responsibility I have for my part in this. I was naïve, gullible, and stupid. I fooled myself into thinking I was doing the right thing. And I wasn't. I didn't. That isn't in debate.”

Gibbs reached over to push the button to take them up. “You and Matthews have the same clearance. If it wasn't her, it could have been you. Everything else comes out of that.”

“So they planned to do this to me all along?” Jake asked. “Well, that makes me feel so much better.”

* * *

Ellie bit into another candy bar, needing something to move her brain onto other things. She didn't know why she couldn't stop thinking about it—about Jake. They'd said that they were over. They had papers. Jake had agreed to sign them no matter what she asked for, and so this was... done. Not quite officially, but it was, and she didn't understand.

Why had he kept the internal affairs investigation from her? She'd thought that was what it was at first, and he'd denied that, but then he'd come for help. Not her help. Gibbs.

She felt betrayed all over again, not just by Jake but by Gibbs as well.

She didn't know what to think or how to feel, and she kept trying to work on their case without any success, which just annoyed her. She was focused, determined. She always saw her assignments through to their conclusion. She did her job. She was good. Obsessive, some said, but she always thought that was a good thing when she was working and there were lives at stake.

This time, though, her obsession was her failed marriage, her husband, and his confusing behavior.

She was still trying to puzzle that out when the elevator doors dinged and Gibbs came back out, leading Jake with him. Jake kept his eyes on the floor, deliberately not looking at anyone. She started to rise, but Gibbs shook his head.

“Stay,” he told her, and Jake jerked a little at the tone of his voice. “Need you to finish working on Harbor's death.”

“Gibbs—”

“Bishop, find her killer,” Gibbs insisted, and she shook her head, but then she caught Jake's eyes for a minute. He turned away, ashamed, heading for the elevator. Gibbs went after him, catching him by the doors and talking to him. Jake shook his head, stepping inside when the doors opened, and Ellie frowned.

“Curiouser and curiouser,” Tony said, coming over across the room. “I think Janet Fisher is a dead end on Harbor's death. What do you say we go find out what Abby knows?”

“That doesn't take two of us.”

“Sure it does,” Tony said. “Besides, I don't think even you will survive it if you eat all of that drawer, and you're at least halfway through already. Come on. You've been obsessing for long enough. Time to get some answers.”

She sighed, but Tony did have a point. If they had gone down to see Abby, then she knew more about what was going on, and Ellie needed something. She couldn't sit here any longer accomplishing nothing. She had too much to do to sit around being useless.

She followed Tony to the other elevator. He pushed the button, letting her go in first. She figured McGee was still with Vance, which was fine. She didn't know that she needed anyone else knowing what was going on. She should have found a way to go without Tony, but she wasn't sure she would have gone without his insistence.

She did like to brood sometimes.

The elevator stopped, and Ellie realized she'd missed the doors closing, but now they were open again and Tony was nudging her out toward Abby's lab. A part of Ellie didn't want to go forward, didn't want to know.

“Got anything for us, Abs?”

Abby looked back from her computer, eying Tony with suspicion. “Why do I get the feeling you aren't here about the trace from Lieutenant Harbor's clothes but about something else?”

“Because you know me too well,” Tony told her, and Abby grinned back at him. The smile didn't last, though.

“Did—what do you know?” Abby asked. “Before I say anything, I have to know.”

“Only that Jake was apparently accused of treason,” Tony said. “He babbled on a bit, but I didn't get most of it. It took a bit before the anger wore off and the mind kicked in.”

“Yeah,” Abby agreed. She grimaced. “Well, that much is true. Jake's accuser is that woman, you know, the one he... well...”

“The one he slept with,” Tony said, since Ellie wasn't about to say it. She didn't want to think about the woman that Jake had betrayed her with.

“Yeah, well, she—you didn't hear him say he didn't remember all of what happened in Dubai?” Abby asked, wincing. “You heard that, right? I don't have to say it because I don't want to be the one to say it because—”

“Abby,” Tony interrupted. “What are you—wait. Jake doesn't remember. As in... he was drugged or somehow otherwise incapacitated during that time?”

Abby nodded. “Pretty sure it was drugs from what Jake said, but it would be very difficult to prove. He said he woke up both times feeling hungover but was only drinking the once. He thought he just drank too much the one time, but Gibbs pushed him, and since he hadn't been drinking at all the second time, didn't even remember leaving the embassy...”

Tony frowned. “Jake was rophied?”

Abby's flinched. “Um... Maybe. Yes, most likely, but it's way too late to prove it. The tests would have had to be done in Dubai, before he got back, and so... Matthews might get away with that.”

Ellie grabbed the nearest counter, not sure she was hearing what she thought she was. “I don't... Jake didn't say anything about this. Not about the treason accusation or the drinking or... being drugged. He... he let me think he... that he wanted to be with her.”

Abby shook her head. “I thought so, too, up until Gibbs dragged him down here, but no. Ellie, he didn't. He still blames himself like he did choose to cheat on you, said the alcohol wasn't an excuse, but it... It actually explains a lot.”

“What...” Ellie swallowed, trying to find words. “What do we have on Matthews?”

“Not much,” Abby said. “So far, I haven't managed to connect her to anything remotely resembling treason or the purchase of rohypnol, which... is not good.”

“Gibbs has a plan, though,” Tony said, and Ellie looked at him. “He wouldn't have left without one, Bishop. Trust in the plan. And Abs?”

“Lieutenant Harbor had gunpowder all over her clothes.”

“She was at a firing range,” Tony said, smiling. He leaned over to kiss Abby's cheek. “You are officially the best.”

“Wait,” Abby said. “There's more.”

* * *

“It's set.”

Gibbs nodded, looking over at his passenger. Malloy had been quiet since they left NCIS, not that Gibbs expected him to do much of any talking. The man was lost in guilt, and he wasn't thinking clearly. He hadn't been for a long time, not since this first started. He should never have been involved, but that would never have fit with their plans.

Malloy was a target, and Gibbs figured he was from the beginning. He hadn't met either of the other agents, but he didn't have to, not for this. He could see the pieces, and that told him that framing Malloy had been their plan all along. He was roped in and made a patsy from the very beginning.

If Gibbs had looked closer, he might have seen that, but he hadn't done more than voice his disapproval. He knew the man was walking into a trap, and he hadn't stopped him. Some battles had to be fought. Others did not. This was one that needed to be fought. Matthews and the others had to be stopped, ending the threat to national security and Malloy's life, but Gibbs could have taken the other path, gone directly after Matthews back when Malloy first mentioned the assignment.

The part that angered him was that he'd known it was wrong from the beginning. He'd ignored it, let Malloy make his own mistakes, and while yeah, that was life, it shouldn't have come to this point. Ever. This shouldn't have happened.

“You ready?”

Gibbs snorted, shaking his head. “It's not me that has to be ready, Tobias.”

“Right. Still, you have to spring this trap sometime, and it's not going to do you any good if you keep sitting in your car.”

“I'm aware of that,” Gibbs said, knowing that for this to actually work, he had to take the next step. Once again he was sending Malloy out on his own, using him as bait.

“Are you sending him in or not? I'm pretty sure I've already seen Howard. Maybe Sobek. There's no sign of Matthews.”

“She'll be here,” Gibbs said. She had to come. Even if she was trying to pretend innocence, she had to be the one. None of the others could get close enough to Malloy to stage the suicide and have it be believed. She was the only one who might get away with it.

“Then send him in. We won't get anything until you do.”

“Not looking to get him killed.”

“Relax, Gibbs. Everything is in place, and I'm right next door. You'll be doubling back as soon as you've convinced them that you've washed your hands of Malloy. They can't think you're helping him, or this little plan of ours does no good.”

“I know,” Gibbs said. He hung up and put the phone back in his pocket. He looked over at Malloy. “You listen to any of that?”

“To what?” Malloy asked, putting a hand to his head. “I don't... You were talking about me. About... using me for bait again.”

“I'm not asking you to seduce anyone or pretend you're interested in them,” Gibbs said, and Malloy snorted. “I think they're coming for you anyway. I can either use that or—”

“Just catch them. I don't care what else happens. Not anymore.”

Gibbs didn't like the sound of that, either, but dealing with the psychological damage wasn't his problem. Malloy might need therapy, but that was something he could seek after he was cleared of treason. If they didn't do this, it wouldn't matter what kind of help he needed. He wouldn't get it.

“Don't do anything stupid,” Gibbs said. Malloy looked at him. “You don't have to be heroic, but don't let them kill you, either.”

Malloy didn't say anything, just got out of the car.

* * *

Jake unlocked the door, stepping into his new apartment. He hadn't decorated it yet, hadn't cared about what was on his walls or anywhere around him. He had only unpacked a few things, the barest of essentials, and most of the boxes were sitting right near the door. He shut the door behind him, shaking his head.

This was his life, and this was the mess he'd made of it.

He was alone. He had a few boxes and nothing else to his name. He didn't even know that he could say that he had memories—he was missing the more important and devastating parts, not that he wanted to remember exactly what happened with Taylor.

What he _did_ want to remember was not that much better, not when it was all caught up in something that was gone now. Ellie.

He sat down, leaning his head against the wall and closing his eyes. Even if he did somehow forgive himself for what happened, nothing would change. She didn't know about the drugs, and Jake didn't think it was worth telling her. The drugs changed how it happened, not that it did, and if Taylor wasn't lying—there was a child. His child. Not one he had with his wife, but one he'd apparently fathered with a traitor.

He didn't know how to live with that.

They had to stop Taylor. If they did, maybe they could prove that, too, was a lie, that she wasn't actually pregnant, and if she wasn't... Then he wouldn't have to try and explain that to Ellie. He didn't know if he thought he could raise a child, not with the sort of things he'd done lately and how stupid they all were. He shouldn't have custody, but then Taylor as a mother...

Jake winced, putting a hand to his head. He couldn't think about this, not about any of it. He couldn't stop himself from thinking and obsessing, but he still didn't want to do this.

He jumped when he heard a knock on his door. He sighed, trying to force himself to be calm again. He was waiting for that, wasn't he? He had to get that and let them in, hoping they'd incriminate themselves.

When they tried to kill him.

Jake almost didn't believe that, but then he remembered all that had happened to him lately and he knew that it was.

He went to the door, opening it. He swallowed, not sure why he was surprised to see Taylor. She'd set him up, hadn't she? She blamed him for all of this, and if he had to take the fall, it was because of her, wasn't it? Still, if she wanted people to believe he'd fooled her, why come? She was putting that all at risk.

“What the hell are you doing here, Taylor?”

She frowned. “Why are you asking me that? Why wouldn't I come?”

Jake folded his arms over his chest. “Because you sold me out. You told Howard and Sobek I'm a traitor. That we had an affair and you're pregnant with my child. I have no interest in seeing you again. Ever.”

She shook her head. “That's not—”

“Go away,” Jake told her, trying to shut the door. He knew that he should let her stay for the confession they needed, but he couldn't make himself do it. He just wanted her gone. He wanted it all gone.

“Jake, we have a child. You can't ignore that.”

“Can't I?” Jake asked, staring at her. “Even if you're not lying and that child not only exists but is mine, have you forgotten how that... happened? I was drunk at best, at worst...”

“At worst?”

“Did you drug me?” Jake asked, looking right at her. He had to know, but that wouldn't change much, would it?

“Why would I have to drug you?”

“Maybe because I still love my wife, because I was never attracted to you, because I didn't intend to cheat on her, and I wouldn't have slept with you if I were sober,” Jake said. He folded his arms over his chest. “You did this. You set me up, you... Why, Taylor? I thought we were... well, maybe we weren't friends, but this... How could you do this?”

She shook her head. “You are a sweet man, Jake, and I... I wish it had been otherwise. You were, however, just what I needed when I realized that the NSA was watching me. I played up a bit of interest, knowing they'd pick you to get their intel. You just... were never meant for this sort of work. You're not a spy. You're a lawyer.”

“Then Howard and Sobek... they aren't involved?”

She laughed. “I never said that. I just said that they handed me the ideal person. You were so eager to help, and that was your undoing. You were blindly loyal to your agency—you didn't even think to question why Sobek and Howard chose you. You were disappointingly loyal to your wife, but that I could overcome.”

Jake backed away from her. “This—you didn't actually—”

“And now there is one last thing you have to do,” she said, and Jake knew she was going to kill him. She had to catch him first, and she was blocking the door, but he could keep his distance. Even if she had a gun, she couldn't convince anyone he'd killed himself if she fired it from here.

Okay, she definitely had a gun, but even as she pointed it at him, he shook his head. This wouldn't look like a suicide, and that was what she needed, wasn't it?

Or maybe it wasn't.

Maybe all she needed was for him to die. If she came here, claimed that she was confronting him about his supposed crime—damn. She already had that worked out, didn't she?

“Taylor, you don't have to do this,” he began, moving back to the far wall. Maybe he could circle back to the door. Or maybe he could run for the bedroom and lock himself in. He couldn't compete with a gun, and even if she didn't have one, he wasn't that great a fighter. He knew racquetball, but he was pretty sure that his racquet was down in his garage.

Damn it, was there _anything_ he could do right?

“I do,” Taylor said, gesturing to the bedroom with the gun. “I committed treason, Jake. I had help, but I don't have any illusions about my partners—they'd kill me or sell me out in an instant. I can't let that happen.”

“If you kill me—”

“I'll be the hero that stopped a traitor,” she said. “One no one ever saw coming. You were so loyal, so good. I should have known when you started flirting with me that something was wrong, but I just thought you and Ellie were having martial problems. That wasn't a secret. And when we had our affair, it saved our lives in Dubai—”

“Stop it,” Jake said, not wanting to hear any more. He couldn't. The way she twisted it all around, that was sick. She was sick.

“Well, if that's the way you want it,” Taylor said, shrugging. Then she fired.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some aftermath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I figured this was going to end a lot... angstier. It is for season thirteen after all.
> 
> It's complete. There is a possibility of other things, which is typical, and also why I didn't resolve every single thing because... I want it to be able to go a number of different ways.

* * *

“So tell us what happened between you and Lieutenant Harbor,” Tony said as he sat down across from Jon Carpenter. Man had a cool name, but he was about to ruin it by being a killer, which was disappointing and yet fitting in a way.

“Never heard of her.”

“Right,” Tony muttered, shaking his head as he opened the folder. He took the picture that was on top and set it in front of Carpenter. “This is you. This is Jill Harbor. You were both at the gun range that morning. Not only is there gunshot residue all over her clothes, we have you on camera. So don't tell me you never met her. You met her the day she died. Now that's a very odd coincidence, don't you think?”

Carpenter shrugged. “So we ran into each other that day. Doesn't mean I know her.”

“Actually, according to my friend McGee—he's an agent, but a complete computer nerd—you have been doing a little cyber stalking. And I think it wasn't all cyber, was it? You were stalking her in real life, weren't you?”

“I didn't do anything.”

“Sure you didn't,” Tony said. “She just happened to drop dead not long after running into you. I don't believe in coincidences, Carpenter.”

The other man glared back at him. “I want a lawyer.”

“Of course you do,” Tony agreed. He hadn't figured Carpenter for the confession type. They'd have to get a lot more from the forensics, but Abby was good, and she would. That, and Ducky probably had some to add, too. Let Carpenter stew while waiting for a lawyer.

He picked up the folder and walked to the door. He stepped out of the room and shut the door behind him. McGee stood there, waiting. He shrugged.

“No comments about cracking him. Not even Gibbs could. Some people just won't confess.”

“We'll get him on the forensics,” McGee said. “We're already halfway there with what Abby and I have, and Ducky's almost done with the profile on Carpenter. So we just need a few more test results, and we have him.”

“Then why are you sad face McGee?” Tony asked, suspicious.

“Bishop got a call while you were in there,” McGee admitted. “It was... from the hospital. They were looking for Jake's next-of-kin.”

Tony frowned. “Jake's in the hospital?”

“Apparently.”

* * *

“I thought you said you weren't getting him killed,” Fornell said, and Gibbs grunted. He wasn't the one in the building—he'd driven off to convince the others that Malloy was being left to his own devices, maybe even abandoned. That was how the trap worked—they had to believe that no one believed Malloy.

That way Matthews would admit, as she had when she came to kill Malloy, that she was guilty of treason and had framed Malloy. Then again, Gibbs hadn't expected her to confess, not really. He had figured catching her attempting to kill Malloy was the only break they'd have. It was a lousy plan, but with as little evidence as they had, it was their best chance. Gibbs had taken it.

“You could have moved in sooner.”

“Maybe.”

Gibbs ignored him, getting closer to Malloy. Truth was, the confession might not have been enough, since they had little physical evidence to back it, but that didn't make the fact that Malloy was bleeding out on the floor any better.

“What, you were waiting for me, Tobias?” Gibbs asked. He shook his head, leaning over Malloy. “He'll live.”

“Not as sure about her,” Fornell admitted, glancing toward the woman on the floor. He hadn't gone to give her first aid after he'd shot her. He'd gone for Malloy first, which Gibbs didn't fault him for. If someone lived, it had better be the innocent one, not the damned traitor.

“Guess we'll find out,” Gibbs muttered. He knew that the ambulance was on the way. He'd called for one as soon as he saw Matthews enter the building. He'd also called in Howard and Sobek's information, having them collected before they had a chance to escape.

Fornell nodded. “She really pregnant?”

Hell if Gibbs knew. He didn't know that he wanted to know. “Even if she is, she didn't give you a choice. She would have killed Malloy. That was what she came here to do.”

“I know.”

“She's guilty of treason.”

“Child's innocent.”

“If there is one.”

* * *

“He's sleeping off the surgery,” Gibbs said, and Ellie forced herself to nod. She didn't know what to think, seeing Jake there on the bed, eyes closed, barely looking like he was breathing. She had thought she was so angry with him she never wanted to see him again, and she had been for a while after he admitted to the affair, but she wasn't now. She'd had time after they agreed to divorce to feel the full effect of having him gone, and she knew—Jake could not die on her.

She didn't know how to feel about anything else, not this investigation, not what Abby had said about the drugs, but she knew she didn't want him dead.

“What happened?” Ellie asked as she got closer to the bed. “What... The treason—”

“Wasn't him. He was just their fall guy.”

Ellie winced, stopping at the bed rail. “Matthews did this?”

“She was a major part of it,” Gibbs answered. “She also tried to kill him.”

Ellie nodded. She almost reached for Jake's hand and then stopped herself. That wasn't them anymore. She didn't know if it could be again. “He had nothing to do with the treason.”

“You need that repeated?”

She sighed. “It's just... I... I think I started to doubt him. After he said he'd cheated on me, I felt like I didn't know him at all. That... wasn't him. It was so far from what I knew of him that I couldn't believe it.”

“He didn't betray his country,” Gibbs said. “Not so sure he betrayed you, though he's still convinced he did.”

She closed her eyes, not sure how to react to that. “Then... he was drugged?”

“She didn't confirm it, not directly,” Gibbs answered. “We may never know exactly what happened in Dubai.”

Ellie swallowed. “Then... it's still possible nothing happened? She just... let him think it did? And he told me he had, and we said it was over... Gibbs, did I throw our marriage away because she lied to him?”

“You made the decision based on what you both believed to be true,” Gibbs told her. “And it wasn't just about his infidelity. There were other problems.”

“Problems I thought we could work out before he cheated,” Ellie said, putting a hand to her forehead. “I... I don't know if I would have filed for divorce if he hadn't. And I don't know...”

“You'll have time to figure that out,” Gibbs told her. “He's going to live.”

* * *

Jake opened his eyes, looking around the room. He didn't need much to know he was in the hospital. He recognized the sounds and the smell, the bright white and the feel of the ridiculous gowns. He was alive. He didn't think he should be, but he was.

He frowned when he saw the flowers all over the room, even a set of black roses, but even that wasn't as hard to believe as the occupant of the chair next to the bed.

“Ellie?”

She jerked awake, almost falling out of the chair. Wincing, she composed herself, letting out a breath. “Jake. You... You're awake.”

He nodded. He was, and he wasn't dreaming, even though he knew she shouldn't be here. They were done. She'd said that. “I... Did they arrest Taylor? I... She shot, and I think I hit my head... I don't know what happened after that. I... I didn't dodge very well.”

“Actually, the doctor said that you were lucky because it could have killed you.”

He swallowed. He didn't know what to say. He almost asked her if that would have bothered her, but he didn't. “I'm sorry. I... I forgot to change my emergency contacts.”

“Jake—”

“It's something I meant to do, I just forgot. It was... a little crazy for me.”

Ellie shook her head. “I'm not mad about getting that call. I was worried about you. I—Why didn't you tell me about the investigation? I asked you. That was what I thought it was—not an affair. You could have told me then.”

“No,” Jake said. “I... I couldn't lie to you anymore. Not about... about... I didn't remember it, but I was sure it must have happened. I just... I didn't... I tried to tell you later, but by then it was too late.”

She winced. “It's—this might have been different if I'd known. And if you were drugged—”

“Drunk or drugged—I don't—I can't forgive myself,” Jake said. “Ellie... She said...”

“She was using you to cover up her own treason,” Ellie told him. “Whatever she said was a part of that. It's not—”

“She's pregnant,” Jake told her, and Ellie grabbed hold of the bed like she might fall over. “So... maybe you were right. Maybe it already was over. Or maybe what is broken is just... broken. It can't be fixed, can't be made right. I feel... all wrong. You deserve so much better than this.”

Ellie started to protest. “You don't know that she was telling the truth, and even if she was, what happened between you—”

“I thought I was doing good by helping with their investigation,” Jake said. He laughed at his own stupidity. He couldn't help it. The whole thing was too absurd otherwise. “I didn't stop, even when they wanted me to play along with her flirting. They thought I should get closer to her, and I knew I couldn't do it, but I still tried to pretend. I didn't tell you. I didn't tell Gibbs. Then Dubai... and I knew not to leave with her, but I did. I was alone with her, and that is... It was my decision. My mistake. I even drank around her. It... It could just have been that, and I really... I made so many mistakes...”

“We all do.”

“I...” Jake shook his head. “I... There is a part of me that wants to just... beg for forgiveness and try to go back to where we were, but I'm not... I don't think we can.”

She bit her lip, and he could see she was close to tears. “I... this... I thought I was fine with it being over, but it's not fine and it's not—”

“We both need time,” Jake said. “I don't... I think I have to... to start over. Completely. I can't go back to the NSA, and I can't... If I have a child... I don't... I don't even know where to begin. There is so much to figure out, and I... I think we have to do it apart.”

“I want to say you're just saying that because you got shot,” Ellie muttered. She put a hand to her head. “I don't know how I feel, either. It's too soon for either of us.”

“Time,” Jake said, reaching for her hand and stopping when the pain hit him. He hissed out a breath. “That was stupid.”

She took his hand. “Then we'll both take the time. We don't need to make more mistakes.”


End file.
